


The Westergaard Princess

by AR_Redux



Series: The Westergaard Princess [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Some angst, occasional smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 93,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AR_Redux/pseuds/AR_Redux
Summary: When Kristoff finds a lost little girl in the wilderness of Arendelle, no one in the royal family is prepared for who she actually is.  Will she be the one to finally repair the rift between two families, or the one to blow the Bjorgmans apart?Set in the decades after Frozen.  Mostly rated T, but with occasional smuttiness.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Series: The Westergaard Princess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027291
Comments: 30
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost a year ago, and it came out in a pile of word vomit I wasn’t happy with. It took being quarantined to finish it, but I do believe it saved my sanity. There’s way too much negative in my life right now to deal with, so I need other things to keep my mind occupied.
> 
> This story deals with some sensitive subjects, most of which are tagged, but some that will give too much away will be included in the notes. I promise to warn you. There are also a fair number of original characters, and I understand that’s not everyone’s bag, but if it is, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This is the prologue and first chapter, and contains descriptions of child and drug abuse.

_**PROLOGUE** _

A young girl, aged not quite twelve years, crept carefully down frosted cobblestones in the dead of night. She wished so desperately to run, to get away as fast as her legs could carry her, but she knew if she did so, she risked raising suspicion. And so she walked, head down, gait confident even though she only had half of an idea where she was going. To a passerby, she was some servant girl, no one of value, someone who was almost as invisible as rain in the night.

No one suspected a child worth, in some ways, more in that moment than ever; someone of tremendous monetary value, if for nothing more than the jewels and coin she carried, and the price she would fetch for marriage. The lowered gaze hid the relatively clean, if bruised, face, notable for her strong features. The rough, thin cloak hid another that, while slightly worn from use by the two sisters who had worn it first, was still quite heavy and very fine. It was also long enough to hide the leather boots that would have cost more than a servant girl made in a year, and the satchel that she wore across her body.

Her Uncle Ivor seemed to be the only one to notice what she had long since suspected—she was uncommonly smart for a girl of her age. He had first said so when he had met her at five years of age. He had been so kind and encouraging, so warm and engaging, so very unlike her own father, his younger brother. Where her father had once told her girls had no need for reading, her uncle quietly encouraged her, slipping her a primer when her parents weren't around. 

Uncle Ivor was always careful. 

Her father _despised_ Uncle Ivor. She did not completely understand, as a small child. She had once heard her father call her uncle his warden. Jealousy seemed to play a part in it, but there was something more. 

She didn’t remember the fracture, as her uncle had called it. It had happened before she was born, and it had nearly destroyed the family.

While an heir and a spare were sensible, there had always been the belief that a large family was truly what secured the dynasty. The Westergaards were no exception. There were always hordes of children, Julia knew, more boys than girls in almost every case, except hers. It sometimes created bitter rivalries between the children, each a potential heir, but somehow, it had never manifested in more than words.

Until some years back, when the youngest of her uncles had ruptured the fault lines that had long since plagued their family.

There had been twelve men in line behind Uncle Ivor, most unbothered by it, but several resentful. The usual barbs were traded between the middle and younger brothers, but the one who finally sent things tumbling was, to everyone’s shock, the youngest.

_That_ uncle was the man who had attempted to murder the Snow Queen of Arendelle, and _that_ was a story she knew. Her father was _proud_ of his brother, proud that he would try so hard for his own gain, while Ivor was untrusting of someone who would plot to kill a queen, marry the spare, then kill her, too.

Julia had heard through closed doors and by careful listening over the years enough to know that her uncle, Hans, was fortunate that his brother, the King, had allowed him to continue his punishment of shoveling dung after the death of their sympathetic and guilt-ridden father. Attempted regicide was usually greeted by the swift swing of an ax or the noose, something she knew from the handful of their own subjects who had tried it on her father.

After that, her father’s brothers had fallen on sides, most to her Uncle Ivor, but a few, including her own father, to the youngest brother. Fractured, never to be repaired.

Her wretched father who, at the request of his oldest brother, had married the crown princess of a small, poor kingdom. The princess’s father had died soon after, rather suspiciously, if rumors were to be believed, and the new king had set about producing a male heir. Unhappy with the three daughters his wife had provided, he pushed for another. When he had finally received his male heir, he used his wife only occasionally—he had no need for an expensive brood of children, or for a more expensive mistress—and one such occasion had produced her, the youngest and least important of his children.

While her father treated her older sisters merely dismissively, he seemed to have a particular dislike for her, the youngest, the least useful spare. He scorned her, grabbed her by her hair and tossed her about for asking questions he deemed irrelevant for a girl of her station.

Once, she had asked for a book on geography, and her father had backhanded her and told her to go about her knitting. Her mother dozed on a chaise. Her brother smirked. Her sisters looked on silently and said nothing. 

It had only been made tolerable by Uncle Ivor’s visits.

Then, two months ago, her father had offhandedly told her that she had been bargained off to some son of a duke from a neighboring kingdom. There was to be a three year engagement; then, on her fifteenth birthday, she would marry a stranger ten years her senior. The duke wanted that rarest of women, a Westergaard princess, which would almost guarantee him sons, as well as status. She had dared protest, and had been met with her father’s fist.

It had finally been enough to finally push her over the edge.

She left no note to the man who had fathered her, nor to her worthless mother, who did not notice her daughter’s distress through the cloud of the opium she so regularly abused. She stole clothes from the servants’ laundry, ensured her own finances, and slid easily, unnoticed, down the wall outside her room.

Her provisions included some jerky and bread and other nonperishable odds and ends smuggled from the pantry that she had squirreled away, as well as a large amount of coin she had stolen from her father. In the weeks preceding that evening, she had smashed the tiara her father forced her to wear, tightly sewing the jewels into a corset, and she wore it beneath the rough dress. Food and coin alike were hidden underneath a spare set of clothes, cloak, and a blanket.

It was relatively easily for a small, darkly dressed girl to creep onboard a ship on the riverfront. She hid between a few crates, wondering where she would end up. Hopefully, somehow she could find Uncle Ivor, or one of her kinder uncles, convince them to let her hide, hopefully never to be sent home. Or maybe better, somewhere she was completely unknown. 

Anywhere, she hoped, so long as it was far away from here.

And so, Princess Julia of Bergland and the Southern Isles disappeared into the night.

###  **CHAPTER 1**

The morning air was crisp as Kristoff surveyed what was to be the last trip of the season. The weather was turning cold, and ice was really only needed now as a stock to pull from until the weather turned cold enough to perform the same job. The chill nipped at his nose, and most of the men with beards, including himself, had frost formed from their warm breath fogging in the air.

He would soon be on his way home, as would they, and the mood was light. From his vantage point nearer the road, he was able to see the men below, laughing jovially and singing as they cut free ice from the lake. Mattias was speaking, but Kristoff was distracted for a moment by a sleigh hurdling up the road. Kristoff heard the voice of his wife’s General cut off, saw his eyes follow. The sound of laughter from driver and passenger met their ears as they sped past, and Kristoff shook his head.

"Fools,” he muttered. “We’re not going after them if they crash.”

“You will.” Mattias smirked. “You know you’d get a tongue lashing if she found out.”

Kristoff rolled his eyes. Over the years, he had developed a different perspective on his life. Anna had always outranked him, but now, he outranked everyone but her. The constitution had not allowed for King Kristoff—not that it was something he had ever desired in the least—but it had, through three hundred year old precedent that had never been overturned, owing to the last royal in question having been a beloved man who died before his wife, allowed for a commoner to become Prince Consort.

According to the law of the land, the Prince Consort always ranked directly below the monarch. It had made him uncomfortable at first, but as he aged, as their family grew, was always calmed by recalling his wife’s opinion on the subject and grew to accept his role with greater ease.

“If you wanted to,” she had said once, “you could take on a lot more of the running of this country. Your only interest is infrastructure and trade, and only in one aspect.” She’d rolled her blue eyes at him across the pillow. “Honestly, you’d make my job easier if you took on some of the other issues. I’m sure when it comes to it, you won’t ever try to overrule Elias. If anything, he’ll be asking your advice.”

“And how do you know that time will come?” He always hated to think of a world without Anna, but every passing year made him more aware of his mortality.

“Because, my darling,” she had said, and then she had smirked, “I’m going first. I’m not living without you.”

“We’ll have to figure out a way to die simultaneously.”

“I think we’ve got a few years, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

He smiled now at the memory. Figuring something out had become the thing that had kept both of them sane when her prospects suddenly shifted from idling as a spare to ascending the throne after Elsa’s abdication. Kristoff had never been fond of dancing or parties or having to wear stiff collars and tight jackets, and the stress increased suddenly and dramatically when they had announced their engagement.

The fight that had occured between Christmas and New Year’s that year had been something to shock everyone who knew them. Elsa had arrived on Christmas Eve to hear Anna threatening to call off the wedding. She had promptly sent Anna to her room, declaring that while she may not be Queen of Arendelle, she was still the Queen of something. Then Kristoff had broken down, sobbing into Elsa’s shoulder.

And he had never known what Elsa had said or done in the following days of Anna’s isolation, but it worked.

What lay before him was the compromise. Some things changed, some things stayed the same. He spent more time in the mountains in the warm months, but he always came back for whatever summer celebration she had dreamed up. He also spent time behind a desk that sat face to face with hers, running the entirety of Arendelle’s ice trade while she did everything else. And he spent most nights at home, wrapped in his wife’s warm arms, kissing her goodbye some mornings for harvesting, some for his desk, and all for the brood of children they had grown over the years.

“Sir?” Mattias sounded amused.

Kristoff blinked from where he’d been staring at the road for the last few minutes. “What?”

“Nothing important, sir. I’ll tell you later. You’ve got that homesick look on your face.”

Kristoff shook his head and began to turn back to his work, perhaps heading down to help speed up the process, when something caught his eye.

Someone was emerging from the trees next to the road—a small female figure, a child perhaps. The snow was deeper up here, and as she stepped forward, she immediately sank into the snowbank. Her voice escaped her in a sharp cry, and several of the nearer men turned. Kristoff climbed easily through the drifts toward her, and he could see the frantic look in her eyes as she tried desperately to free herself.

“Woah, there!” Closer now, he could see that she was a young girl, still a child, maybe around eleven or twelve. Eyes darting, she seemed to look for an escape, but found none. Aware that he was a large, hulking, bearded stranger, he put his hands out in front of him as he slowed his pace, certain she lacked either the strength or stamina to free herself. “Easy, kid. I’m just trying to help. I won't hurt you, I promise. " He gave her a quick one over, not liking what he saw. Her clothes were covered in snow, but looked rather expensive. There were dark bags under her eyes—lack of sleep, he suspected. But the bags were nothing for the faded bruise across her cheek, one that looked to be in the late stages of healing from something that would have been large and mottled. Her face was resolved now, but her eyes gave away her fear. “Are you far from home?” He made his voice soft, non threatening, as he stepped toward her.

“I don’t have a home.” She lifted her chin defiantly, eyes now flashing with something akin to fury. He was close enough to see that they were green.

“No home, huh?” Kristoff waved away two other men who had slowly been approaching, seeming unsure of whether or not their assistance was needed. 

“No.” The girl’s bravado was impressive. Maybe even real. “I’m off to find my own.”

“So, no parents?”

“None who care.”

He thought about that for a moment, about the bruise on her face, the finery of her clothes. Taking another step forward, he asked, “If I pull you out, will you run?”

She stared him up and down before answering, “I’m not sure yet. I don’t even know who you are.”

Kristoff chuckled at this, wondering what she’d say when she found out who, exactly, he was. “Fair enough.” He pulled her out by her arms, setting her on her feet in the road and hearing the crunching of snow that indicated Mattias had finally caught up with him.

“Everything alright, sir?” Mattias sounded concerned, and Kristoff tried to communicate with his eyes as much as he could to proceed cautiously.

“To be honest, Mattias, I'm not sure.” He made his voice light, gesturing to the girl at his side. “This young lady seems lost, but I can't tell if she wants help or not.”

“Who is she?”

“Undetermined.” Kristoff raised his eyebrows at the girl, who was staring suspiciously back and forth between the two men from under her cowl. “Not even sure what her name is.”

“You haven't told me _your_ name either, and I'm a little girl.” She jutted her chin again, crossing her arms and making herself look severe. “I'm supposed to be wary of strangers.”

Kristoff burst out laughing. She almost reminded him of Sara, only taller. He squatted down in front of her making his face lower than hers, and she blinked, confused at the gesture. “It’s Kristoff.” She was still looking confused, almost as if she were unused to any sort of kindness. “And you are…”

She regarded him for a minute, glancing back at the soldier behind him. “Who is he?”

“That's General Mattias. He's…” Kristoff paused, glancing back at Mattias, stuttering to a halt when the girl finally showed a flash of fear in her eyes. So, it wasn’t the overgrown ice harvester she was afraid of, it was the military man.

“I'm his assistant,” Mattias said easily. He seemed to have caught on fairly quickly, and his tone was easy and nonthreatening. Kristoff noticed that he kept his hands loose at his sides or open in front of him when he spoke. “We're surveying the ice harvest, making sure everything is on track, seeing if we can help find more efficient means for the harvesters.” 

There was another silent moment before she finally spoke. Quietly, a bit nervously, she whispered, “My name is Julia.”

Kristoff took the mitten off from one hand and held it out to her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Julia. Do you have a last name?”

She blinked, as if that wasn’t something she had expected. “Olsen,” she said quickly. “My name is Julia Olsen.” She managed to sound strong again, almost stubborn, as if ready for him to challenge her.

He smiled, accepting the answer—for now, at least. “And how old are you, Julia?”

“I'll be twelve next month.”

“And you have no family, and you wound up here…” Kristoff raised his eyebrows, imploring her to fill in the rest of the sentence.

“I hid on a wagon and jumped off when I realized I was with some people who weren't very friendly. I'd rather freeze.”

Mattias glanced back at the road and Kristoff rolled his eyes as he spoke. “Definitely not going. I don’t care _what_ she says.” Julia looked confused, and Kristoff explained, “We saw them a few minutes ago. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything when you jumped.”

“I was careful,” she said, as if such a thing should be obvious and expected from everyone, and therefore almost tedious to discuss. “I could see how high the snow was from the trees on the side of the road, and they didn’t know I was there, so I waited for a big one and jumped.”

“Tough kid, then." Kristoff chuckled. “My oldest is the same way. He's your age, you know. Just turned twelve last month.” He thought briefly of Elias, sitting at home and bored during his lessons, but understanding and remarkably empathetic with his parents, even though he was a kid who would rather be anywhere else. “Do you want to talk about why you ran away?” 

Kristoff couldn’t imagine losing a child, couldn’t imagine a parent who could, except for a few bastards here and there. He hadn’t heard anything about a missing child in Arendelle, but he supposed that if it was recent, he wouldn’t know, anyway. The girl _had_ mentioned not having anyone who would care, as she’d said.

Julia took a deep breath. Now, her eyes averted to stare at her boots, which he noticed were made of fine, embossed leather. The pattern was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “My father is a very bad man,” she said simply, staring down at her feet.

“And your mother?” Mattias took a single step toward them, as if she was a horse he was trying not to spook.

“She didn't care if he hit me or ignored me or told me I was worthless. She’s barely ever conscious, anyway. She just lives in her own personal little opium den all day and comes out at night to drink herself stupid.”

At this, Kristoff felt a dark look pass over his face. The bruise, the skittishness, the fear in her eyes—their causes were all now clearly confirmed. “Then I don't blame you for running away.” Anyone who harmed a child was indefensible. 

Julia blinked, clearly surprised again. “Really?”

Mattias laughed at this. “Ran away himself when he was seven years old.”

“Were your parents cruel to you?” Julia looked back at Kristoff. 

“No.” His brow furrowed at the distant memory. “I was an orphan. My parents were good, as much as I remember. But the matron at the orphanage was not.” It was an understatement. The other children were well treated, but he was a little lost Sámi boy. He was good for nothing but manual labor and boxing about the ears, among other abuses. The lash had been his least favorite.

He couldn’t sit still, didn’t look quite right, would be tall and could possibly be put up for someone’s free labor. So he ran away, dressed in his own old clothes, not what they’d dressed him in, found his own work, and let it grow him broad and tall, the better to serve himself.

Until he’d met Anna, anyway.

“So…” Julia fiddled with her cloak. “You won't have me arrested and make me go home?”

_Arrested?_ What eleven year old worried about being arrested? Hiding the shock from his face, Kristoff allowed himself a laugh at the absurdity, straightening up and looking at his companion. “I don't know, General, what do you say? Should we throw her in the dungeon, or find her someplace to stay?”

“I believe if you threw her in the dungeon, you may have to answer to a very angry wife, and I'm sure you don't want that, sir.”

“I certainly don't.” Kristoff looked back at Julia. She certainly couldn’t stay here, in the mountains, and while he knew the orphanage where he had lived briefly was gone, replaced with one years back that was full of love and joy and special visits from the Queen and the Duchess, he still couldn’t bring himself to take her there. He could have sent her with Mattias, but it still didn’t feel right. He couldn’t say why, but he needed to handle this himself, certainly with Anna’s help. Anna would understand.

She always did.

So he said, after a brief moment’s consideration, “Would you like to come stay with my family? You don't have to, we can certainly find you somewhere else, some dingy orphanage with a view of an alley.”

“Now sir,” Mattias said, his voice teasing, “the orphanage in Arendelle has improved since you were a kid.” But there was understanding in the older man’s eyes.

And Kristoff was as sure as anything that not only would Anna not mind, she would love the idea.

Julia was still thinking as they looked to her for a response. She took a deep breath. “You promise you won't make me go home?”

Kristoff gave her a more stern gaze at this. “So long as you're telling the truth. Are you being honest, Julia?”

“Yes.” Her bright green eyes were mostly clear of fear now, her face settled with resolve. There was a steely look that didn’t belong there, not in a girl of her age, but one Kristoff recognized as the same one he used to wear when asked where his parents were, or why he was alone, or why he didn’t work with the others very well.

“Because if what you're saying is true, I would not be able to, in good conscience, send you home. You have my word. As long as it’s in my power, you stay with us.” He stuck his hand out, and she shook it as he said to the general, “Mattias, you're my witness. This makes it official.”

“Yes, sir.” Mattias gave him a nod and a smile. “We should get going if we want to give her time to settle in before dinner. And of course…”

“I’ll speak to Anna, don't worry.”

“Who is Anna?”

“She's my wife,” Kristoff replied simply. “She'll be thrilled to have you for as long as you want.”

“But are you sure you have room?” The girl was needling him, still a little suspicious, and chuckled again.

Throwing caution to the wind, deciding it would either calm her completely or send her racing for the hills again, he said, “Well, kid, if we’re being honest, she’s the Queen of Arendelle, so she’s got plenty of room.”

To Kristoff’s shock, she dropped into a deep, perfect curtsy. So perfect, in fact, it could rival Kristin’s. “I would be honored, Your Royal Highness,” she said, bowing her head and averting her eyes. Jesus, she sounded like some kind of visiting dignitary. “I've heard the Queen is very kind, and I hope she can find kindness for me.”

“That, and she has a soft spot for kids. We've got six of them, ourselves.” Six royal, rambunctious children who he suddenly felt a desperate need to be close to, wrap in his arms, and ensure their safety. He cleared his throat, feeling suddenly emotional.

His children were home, safe with Anna and the compassionate staff they had hired carefully over the years, and the ones who had been around for decades. He seldom worried for their safety, and he knew Anna felt the same. As long as they were close by, the half dozen Bjorgman children would thrive.

“Come on, kid, let's get going. You can save the curtsies for later. You can ride in the back of the wagon or up front, but we need to get you wrapped up. You've got icicles for fingers.”

They walked a short distance back to the sled, Kristoff helping her climb up into the back. He offered to hold her rucksack, but she held it tightly, still a bit fearful. He didn't argue, just nodded before going around to the front, reaching down and producing a fine fur, which he handed back to her.

“Keep warm,” he ordered, watching her tuck the fur around herself. “You tell me if you're cold. I've got more blankets, but this is the warmest thing I've got.” A whistle through his fingers brought Sven running from the nearby woods, bursting through the trees and making Julia startle. “Come on, buddy. We’re heading home early.” 

Sven hopped joyfully toward the sled as his tongue lolled, making Kristoff laugh. From the corner of his eye, he thought he even saw Julia’s face lift a little.

“I know, you want your treats and your comfortable hay and your petting by the kids when they’re supposed to be studying.” 

He raised an eyebrow, and Sven huffed innocently, straightening himself forward and effectively ignoring him. 

“Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” Climbing up with Mattias, he took a glance back at little Julia, and he felt his heart race a little.

She was so small, huddled under the warm fur, and her hood had fallen back. Her eyes were lowered to her lap, to her rucksack, and she didn’t seem to notice him observing. Her hair was a distinctive shade of rusted red, and he could see the lines of her face more clearly. He could see the set of her eyes, and the length of her straight nose. Her jaw was chiseled, brow strong and defined.

She looked _so_ familiar.

They began their trip down the mountain, and it was only a few minutes later that Julia seemed to have fallen asleep. Neither Kristoff or Mattias spoke, not wishing to wake her or be overheard if she did, so they rode along in silence for a long time before Mattias finally whispered, “She seems _so_ familiar.”

“What do you mean?” Kristoff wasn’t quite ready to admit it himself yet.

“Like someone I’ve met before.” He frowned. “Something in her face reminds me of… someone. So self assured, too. _So_ familiar…” Trailing off, Mattias looked frustrated.

“I feel the same way. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I suppose it will reveal itself in time, if it’s of any importance,” Mattias mused. “In any case, I don’t think she’s dangerous. I didn’t get that feeling from her, at all. We can put extra guards at the ends of the hall, but nothing will come of it. And I’m sure she wouldn’t cause any harm to the children. And in any case, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you didn’t help the poor thing. If she’s telling the truth, it’s like she’s a younger version of yourself.” Kristoff was grateful that Mattias, in all his loyal kindness and wisdom, had been with them so long. Neither had a living father, and Mattias looked after them like his own, able to let slip the occasional pearl of wisdom in the way a father might have done.

Kristoff cleared his throat and made his voice gruff as he spoke. “Thanks.”

Mattias just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

They arrived back in Arendelle in mid afternoon, the weak sunlight obscured by the unassuming greyness that came so often with fall. Kristoff had tossed another blanket over Julia halfway down, and she hadn’t stirred.

It only half surprised Kristoff when Anna was there to meet them. He had planned to be back later, closer to dinner, and he was early, but he knew her eyes often gazed out her window toward the road when he was away, the better to ensure her ability to greet him when she was able.

She was always the best thing to see. She looked almost exactly the same as the girl he’d swung in his arms and kissed on a pier so many years before, but even lovelier. Motherhood had filled out her narrow frame a bit, and given her a perpetual glow. Now, she bounced on the balls of her feet, a letter absently held at her side and a wide smile on her face.

“You’re early!” she cried happily, throwing her arms around Kristoff, then frowning when Kristoff and Mattias each shushed her. “What?”

Mattias gave Kristoff a shove. “Go on, you tell her.”

In a rushed whisper, Kristoff recounted the events of the earlier afternoon, Anna’s eyes going wide, first with shock, then with anger, then with relief. He left out the description of the child, curious if she would notice as they rounded the back of the sleigh.

“You believe her?” A woman’s voice met her ears as Julia realized she had woken amid a hushed conversation.

“I think she’s leaving out a few details,” he murmured, pulling Anna a few steps further from the sleeping child.

“Do you see the cloak she was wearing? Her boots?” Mattias grinned. “And don’t forget that curtsy. Wealthy child if ever I saw one.”

“And if she’s clearly well born,” Anna surmised slowly, “why would a child run away from a life of privilege unless they really were unhappy?” Kristoff knew she was thinking of Elsa, of the events that had brought the pair of them together, of Elsa’s abdication from the throne of Arendelle to a much greater calling.

“Something happened to her. Must have finally had enough. Had this skittish look when we first found her. Stubborn, though.” He smiled. “Put on a pretty brave face.”

Anna laughed softly. “I like stubborn.” She glanced down for the first time at the letter Kristoff had just noticed her carrying, a troubled expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He knew Anna like he knew ice. Knew when ice was fragile, knew when his wife had something on her mind.

“I’ve had a letter from Ivor.” Her voice was a breathy whisper, as if she didn’t want to risk being overheard. They took a few further steps from the sleigh and its still dozing cargo.

Ivor. What did Ivor have to do with…

King Ivor of the Southern Isles. Ivor, eldest of thirteen brothers, most of whom were decent enough and a few who were not so decent. Ivor, who bore a striking resemblance to his youngest brother, and to so many of his brothers. Ivor, with the long, straight nose, strong jaw, noble brow. Ivor, with his hair that, though streaked with gray, was still a rusted red in color, sideburns not _quite_ so ostentatious as said younger brother.

Ivor, who he now realized, bore a striking resemblance to the girl in the sleigh. Same hair, same nose, same ears and facial features, same calculating, green eyes.

She looked so familiar… 

His head was spinning. No, it wasn’t possible. Why would any of Ivor’s relatives be running around the wilderness in Arendelle?

Anna was still speaking. “He had a letter from his brother, Benjamin.”

Benjamin, Ivor’s brother, one of Kristoff’s least favorite people in the world, and it turned his stomach a little to hear his name so abruptly mentioned. “Which one is he?” Kristoff wanted reassurance.

Anna’s brow raised at this. “The one who likes to call me the whore queen, and says your son is little more than a bastard because no queen in her right mind would marry someone as common as dirt.”

Yep, same Benjamin. “Just making sure.”

“The one who owes us money,” Mattias added.

“And who probably won’t pay it, just like he doesn’t pay any of his other debts. It’s fortunate we didn’t lend him more than we did.” Anna laughed, a quiet, bitter sound. “Anyway, Benjamin sent a messenger to Ivor. Said that his youngest child had run away, wondered if Ivor had heard anything.” She lifted the letter from where it rested against her skirts, “Ivor said, ‘My brother has no interest in her safety or welfare, nor much desire for her return above a contract he feels obligated to fulfill.’”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning he had her set to be married off. No dowry, but somebody was willing to pay to marry a Westergaard princess. He said the girl threw a fit and disappeared a couple of months later. This was several weeks ago, apparently. She hasn’t turned up anywhere, and he asks that we consider keeping an eye out for her. Benjamin is an idiot,” Anna continued, rolling her eyes, “but Ivor checked on the manifests of ships leaving Bergland and found one of them was headed for Arendelle, then to the Southern Isles. Arrived here about two weeks ago, and there was no sign of the Princess when the ship arrived in the Southern Isles. Ivor said,” and now Anna smirked, “he ‘neglected to inform Benjamin of this information. Do with it as you choose.’”

“So you think this is her?” Mattias sounded as if he had had some kind of fear confirmed.  
  


“Ivor said she looks like her father. Like Ivor.” Anna gestured toward the sleeping girl. “And if she doesn’t have the Westergaard look, I don’t know who does. Did you see her eyes when she was awake?”

Kristoff’s nod seemed to confirm Anna’s suspicions. “Did Ivor give you a name?”

Anna looked back at the letter, scanning further down, seeming to look for validation more than information. “Princess Julia of Bergland and the Southern Isles.” Kristoff looked back at the girl, staring for a long moment before Anna whispered, “Did _she_ give you a name?”

“Julia Olsen.” He recalled her shock at being asked for a surname. She would never say Westergaard, probably hadn’t even thought to come up with a different one. “Didn’t say Olsen at first, just Julia.”

It was quiet for a long time before Anna whispered, “It could be a coincidence.”

Kristoff scoffed. “You don’t believe that. She asked if we were going to arrest her, Anna, force her to go home. Normal children don’t think about that. Not unless they were raised by someone who arrests anyone who has the smallest negative thing to say about them.” Just one more thing he hated about Benjamin. 

“I just have to be sure.” Queen Anna’s voice was laced with sadness as she continued, “Poor thing. No child should ever be afraid to go home. But if it’s her…”

“People can be cruel, Anna. Especially to children.” Kristoff could hear the bitterness in his voice. “I can't tolerate it. If there's a grain of truth to what she says, I’ll take down anybody that tries to hurt her. She's a kid. She should be worried about running around outside and sliding down banisters, not whether or not she's going to get arrested. And if she _is_ Benjamin’s,” he added, “then that bastard’s got a lot more to fear than a broken contract and a few unpaid debts.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Mattias reassured them. “Maybe get some idea of who she is. That could give us some idea on the validity of our theory.”

“We could ask her.” Anna sounded like she didn’t quite believe herself.

“We could,” Kristoff said, “and she could lie. I think she’d be more likely to run than if she just told us herself. She doesn’t know us, doesn’t know to trust us.”

“I know.” Anna frowned. “I hate that I have to think about these things. But should we say something? Not to her parents, they sound horrible. Should I write anything back to Ivor?”

“No.” Mattias’s voice was firm. “Not yet, anyway. We don't even know if this is her or not. It could just be a coincidence, Julia isn't that uncommon of a name; but if it is her, and we tell King Ivor, I don't think he would tell his brother, from reading this. Don’t forget, Ivor isn’t his brother’s biggest supporter. All but banished him off to some tiny, broke kingdom.” Mattias sighed. “Perhaps if it is her, then we consider telling King Ivor. But not until then.”

“So what do we tell people?” Anna looked and sounded resolved.

“The truth.” Kristoff shrugged. “Or part of it, anyway. We found her, cold and alone in the wilderness, no family, and decided to do the right thing and take her in. We just don’t mention she’s not an orphan.”

“Why here, and not an orphanage? Or, with Ivor?”

“We felt a personal responsibility for her.” Kristoff squared his shoulders. _“I_ felt a personal responsibility. And Ivor has more kids than we do, and isn’t nearly as well set up. Not to brag, but I do a pretty good job for you, Majesty.” 

Anna’s eyes shone with love. “Good enough for me. We've done weirder things.”

Kristoff chuckled at this. “We do let Sven inside all the time, and a kid’s a lot cleaner than a reindeer. We should wake her up.”

“No. Poor thing, just let her sleep. You can carry her, I'll help.”

Carefully, they maneuvered Julia out off the wagon, Anna helping to ensure the blankets stayed tight around the girl, while Mattias busied himself with unhitching Sven and getting everything squared away. They made their way inside in silence, shushing the few servants they passed who looked on in shock, Anna only whispering to Kai that she would speak to him later, and could he please send a maid to wait outside the blue room in the guest wing.

Finally, they made it up, Anna opening the door and hurrying to draw back the covers. Kristoff lay the girl, still fully dressed and in her boots, not wishing to disturb her or cause her fright on her waking, on the plush bed. When Anna reached for the satchel she carried, Kristoff waved her off. “Leave it,” he whispered. “I offered to carry it earlier, and she got all defensive.”

“Ivor said Princess Julia stole money and ran off with her jewels. Do you think that's where she's hiding them?”

“I don't know, but the last thing we want for her is to wake up, panic, and bolt. Just leave her be and cover her up. We’ll put a maid outside the door in case she wakes up. I doubt she can climb down from the fourth story.” He tugged Anna’s hand toward the door. “Come on. Let her sleep.”

They had just closed the door, watching to make sure she wasn’t awake, and had just eased it closed when a quiet voice made both of them startle. “Who’s that?”

* * *

Once she heard the sound of the door clicking closed, Julia opened her eyes and sat up. Looking around, she found herself in a sizable room, larger than her own room had been. It was painted in warm blues, and the bed was comfortable.

The Queen and Prince Consort were gone, whispering fervently in the hallway with someone else, the sound of their footsteps fading away. She sat still, waiting for what, she wasn’t sure. The thing she was waiting for was the sound of footsteps again, then the sound of furniture—a chair, probably—being moved just outside the door. The maid, then. Having overheard the entirety of the conversation since the sleigh had come to a stop, she suspected the maid was of the helpful sort, rather than a jailer.

Julia thought for a moment about creeping around to investigate, but she was too tied. She lay back down, covering herself back up. She was fairly sure they would not send her home, but she needed to weigh the risk of them telling her uncle before she told them.

Uncle Ivor, she reminded herself, was kind. She knew kindness only extended so far, but perhaps his affection for her would outweigh the potential risks involved. He was good, if not the wealthiest of kings, and though he might not be able to take her in himself, he might well be willing simply to look the other way, so long as she was away from her father.

Uncle Ivor had been the one to tell her the truth about the Queen of Arendelle, a kind-hearted woman who loved her children dearly, and who was always willing to help anyone who needed it.

She slept again, only a little fitful now, feeling safe for the first time since she could remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna contemplates fourteen years of marriage, and Julia comes clean.

“Mama?” Elias stared from Anna to Kristoff to the now-closed door. “Who was that?”

  


Anna felt her heart race. She hadn’t thought yet what they would say to the six curious onlookers who were bound to notice the sudden appearance of another child in their midst.

  


Fortunately, Kristoff bought them a few moments. “Shh,” he whispered, steering their son back down the hall. “She’s sleeping.”

  


Once they had rounded a corner, Elias spoke again, his voice still quiet. “Who was that?”

  


Anna gave her husband a helpless look, not sure what to say. Kristoff spoke gently to Elias. “We don’t know. We found her out near the ice grounds.” But she could see the look in his eyes, the brief flash of guilt that she was certain her son missed as his gaze turned forward, to the stairs. He hated lying to their children, almost more than she did.

  


“Is she staying here?”

  


“For now, yes.”

  


“For as long as she needs,” Anna corrected. “We don’t know her story, Elias. She may have no family. There might not be anywhere safe for her to go.” Her heart ached, but she felt in her heart that telling Elias, or any of the children, more than this was potentially dangerous.

  


She had managed to throw in a little truth, though, she thought.

  


If the girl  _ was,  _ in fact, Princess Julia of Bergland, whom, if memory served her correctly, was the youngest child of King Benjamin of the Southern Isles and Bergland. King Benjamin was unpopular with natives and neighbors alike, woefully in debt and in danger of losing Bergland to Corona, with whom they shared a border on the opposite side of a river. Anna had never met him, but she knew he was more like Hans than his eldest brother. King Ivor never had a kind or loving word to speak on King Benjamin, only shaking his head in disappointment and a complete lack of concern that, while normal for either of his aforementioned brothers, was unusual for him. She could remember the brief things she had heard over the years… 

  


_ “Too much drink is never a wise thing. Benjamin, God help him, never seemed to learn that…”  _

  


_ “I won’t be changing the sentence of my youngest brother, Your Majesty. My father thought it a fitting punishment, and so do I. Benjamin will grumble, to be sure, but to be honest, I couldn’t give less of a damn if I wanted to…”  _

  


_ “Spends everything he has, then comes asking for more from me. What am  _ I  _ to do? I’ve a brood of my own, and a kingdom to look after…”  _

  


_ “Children should be treasured. I saw Benjamin recently. He's five children, and yet he can’t find any inclination to at least let the youngest learn to read? He nearly tortures that poor child…”  _

  


The youngest, Princess Julia. Julia, who would have looked like Hans and Benjamin. Princess Julia, who had been auctioned off before she was even twelve. Julia, the runaway niece of her neighbor, an ally she had grown to trust; the daughter of a greedy and selfish man who owed Arendelle a substantial debt, which he seemed to have no intentions of paying off.

  


“Why doesn’t she just go to an orphanage, then? Why is she  _ here?”  _ Elias didn’t sound suspicious as Anna refocused on her oldest child. It wasn’t his nature to be so, not natural. He sounded, instead, like the curious youth they knew so well, and the one they had silently agreed would be the one they would need to convince.

  


“So many questions,” Anna teased as they descended the stairs again. “I have a few of my own. Where are your siblings, and why aren’t you in your lessons?”

  


Elias huffed a sigh, his footsteps becoming heavy. “It’s  _ etiquette _ lessons, Mama. I don’t need etiquette lessons. I know the forks that matter.”

  


Anna and Kristoff laughed at this. He had a point. Elias was a near perfect balance of both parents in both temperament and manner. He was already as tall as Anna, and Kristoff was sure the boy would end up being a bit taller than him. He could be clumsy at times, especially during spurts of growth, but when he chose to, he had a dignified air about him that sometimes reminded Anna more of Elsa than either of them. Still, he had a mischievous streak to rival his mother’s, and a remarkable ability to become the biggest grump in his rare moments of preteen angst. 

  


“It’s not about you, sweetheart,” Anna reminded him, her voice only a little chiding. “You need to—”

  


“Set an example for my brothers and sisters,” he recited, sounding defeated. “I know.”

  


“And where does Mademoiselle think you are at this moment?”

  


“I’m supposed to be going to the bathroom.”

  


“Now just a minute,” Kristoff said. “Mademoiselle never let  _ me _ go to the bathroom.”

  


“Did you ask to go to the bathroom?”

  


“Yeah.”

  


“Yeah, you can’t do that.” Elias shook his head. “You have to ask if you may be forgiven for excusing yourself for a moment.”

  


Anna and Kristoff were quiet for a moment before Anna burst out into giggles and Kristoff scowled. “I’m impressed,” Anna said. “I never thought of that.”

  


“It’s her fault really,” Kristoff tried to reason. “If we never knew how to ask, it’s because she never taught us.”

  


“Now, honey,” Anna said, her voice teasing, “I’ve told you a thousand times, we aren’t about to fire Mademoiselle. She’s been here since before I was born.”

  


“No kidding,” Elias muttered, and Kristoff chuckled. 

  


Anna bumped Kristoff with her hip. “Don’t encourage him,” she whispered, but she smiled as she said it. Then she spoke again so Elias could hear. “Besides, she’s the best around, and she’s actually very sweet when she’s not being  _ Mademoiselle. _ Now, Elias,” she said, raising her voice, “go back to your lesson. I need to talk to your father. Boring affairs of state, I promise. If you think an etiquette lesson is bad…”

  


“Fine.” Elias’s shoulders slumped a little, and Kristoff gave him a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile. The boy smiled back, then said, “I’m sorry, Mama. Sorry, Papa.”

  


“It’s okay.” Kristoff grinned as he ruffled the boy’s hair, identical in color and texture to his own. “Truth be told, I’m a little impressed.”

  


“Thanks.” He turned to his father. “Are we still going fishing tomorrow?”

  


“We’ll have to see,” Kristoff said, his voice regretful. She had nearly forgotten; Elias, Axel, and Kristin had been begging Kristoff to go fishing, and Kristoff had promised them a day off when they could all go together as a family, Anna included. She’d had her schedule cleared for a week to spend some much needed time with her family before the hustle of the holiday began.

  


“Of course we’re going, Elias.” Anna gave her husband with a sideways glance. “And I bet our new friend will be joining us. And speaking of our guest, I know I can trust you not to tell your siblings yet. I’m sure you understand that your father and I want to talk to you all together.”

  


The boy nodded, his face suddenly very serious. “Yes, Mama.”

  


“Not even Kristin.” Kristoff’s slight eye roll indicated his lack of assurance that such a thing was possible. Elias and Kristin told each other everything. 

  


Still, it needed to be said. She needed Elias to understand, even if he would never utter the words aloud, that this was more than she could explain. The explanation could not be given, for Arendelle’s sake.

  


The look in Elias’s eyes was one that she knew he only ever gave her, one only she could even see. It always broke her heart a little to see the understanding of her Crown Prince in the brown orbs, the comprehension of what his Queen was saying. His voice was solemn as he said, “Yes, ma’am. I promise.”

  


Anna reached out, pulling him in for a quick, tight hug. “That’s my boy. Off you go.” Unable to easily reach the top of his head anymore, she dropped a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, dear heart.”

  


“Love you.” Elias squeezed back, then stepped to his father. Kristoff pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Anna wondered vaguely just how he was coping with finding an abused child on the side of the road, someone who, just like he had so many years ago, had run away from a life led by fear. Elias seemed to notice something off, as well, and he asked quietly, “Are you okay, Papa?”

  


“Yep.” A final squeeze, and Kristoff let go. “Just love you.”

  


Elias rolled his eyes. “I know, Papa. You tell us all the time.” But Anna could see, under the guise of a boy trying to become a man, the absolute joy of hearing his father’s words. He gave them a little wave as he headed back down the hall, a small bounce in his light steps. “Have fun working.”

  


Anna watched him go, wondering vaguely when he had gotten so tall. They were eye to eye, but it seemed like only yesterday when he was toddling around, holding Kristoff’s pinkies as he learned how to walk.

  


Despite both of them being busier than ever, Kristoff still spent significantly more time during the day with the children than she had ever been able to. If he wasn’t on the mountain or behind a desk, sometimes even then, he was with their children. 

  


She could never be jealous of him, though. Kristoff had been willing to give up almost all of his freedom to be with her, willing to set aside his own desires in place of hers. Even then, he had still given up so many things, but he insisted the replacements were worth it. But it was never what Anna had wanted for him when he’d first swept her off her feet. 

  


In truth, it was the only thing that had ever come close to breaking them.

  
  


_ She was sure the words, “I hate my life sometimes,” were meant in jest, but they bothered her all evening. Against her free will, Queen Anna found herself needling her fiancé throughout the rest of the ball. _

  


_ “Do you even like this food?” _

  


_ “Do you even like to dance?” _

  


_ “I know you hate this stupid jacket, but is it really that bad?” _

  


_ And no, he didn’t like the food served at balls, would rather eat what they normally had, but it was fine. _

  


_ No he didn’t like to dance, but she did, so it was fine. _

  


_ He hated the jacket, but it was what everyone else was wearing, so it was fine. _

  


_ And that night, after the guests had all gone home, she had erupted, “It’s not fine!” _

  


_ They were in the hall outside his room, just across from her old room, which was now Elsa’s, when the Duchess was in Arendelle. There were no guards or maids close by, but it wasn’t private, really. Not the place for a fight, but Anna couldn’t help it. Several—or maybe a few more than that—glasses of wine made her braver than usual, and she stood her ground, hands on her hips, as she stared him down. _

  


“This  _ is what you want to fight about?” He sounded disbelieving. “Dancing and a stupid suit?” _

  


_ “That's not the point. You hate your life?” She waved her arms in frustration, seeing the hardening of his face. “What else do you hate about your life? Why are you even here if you hate it so much?” _

  


_ “Stop it, Anna.” His voice was edged with anger. “You’re drunk. And you know that’s not what I meant.” _

  


_ “Why won’t you answer my question?” She stomped her foot—actually stomped her foot, like a child. “Why are you still here?” _

  


_ “For you!” he burst out. “I’m here for you, Anna, because I love you! You know that! It was a fucking joke!” _

  


_ “It wasn’t a joke,” she said, feeling dread creeping into her spine for the first time in a while. She didn’t like the feeling. “You may say that, but you really hate your life here.” _

  


_ “So what?” Kristoff’s hands raised in frustration. “Does it matter?” _

  


_ Did it  _ matter? _ Did it matter that he was happy here, and not just because she was here? Could  _ she  _ deal with that? Did it scare her a little? Did it scare her a lot? _

  


_ What she should have said, the thing she would wish for days after that she  _ had _ said, was, “Of course it matters.” _

  


_ What she actually said, furious and drunk, as he had just pointed out, was, “Does it matter if I call off the wedding?” _

  


_ Kristoff’s face fell just as the door to her left flew open with impressive force, making Anna jump and shriek with surprise. Elsa stood, looking particularly ethereal in a flowing white nightgown, blonde hair down and framing her face perfectly. There was a thunderstruck look in her eyes, one that wasn’t usually directed at Anna, but that made her immediately hang her head. _

  


_ “Go to your room, Anna.” Elsa’s voice was commanding, as if Anna were a child. One delicate finger even pointed away, down the corridor in the direction she needed for her own chambers. _

  


_ “You can’t tell me what to do,” Anna tried to argue, unable to meet either of the sets of eyes before her. _

  


_ “I may not be Queen of Arendelle,” Elsa said, her voice firm, “but I am still your sister. And I’m the Queen of… something.” She waved a vague hand and shook her head. “Now, go to your room.” _

  


_ Anna’s brow furrowed and her eyes now glued to the carpet, the sconces, out the window. Anywhere but on the face she glimpsed when she had dared look up for a split second, Kristoff’s heartbroken face and watering honey eyes. _

  


_ She heard Elsa murmuring softly behind her as she trudged away, the words not discernable, but there was the shuffling of feet, the opening and closing of a door, as Elsa once again closed herself off, but in a way that was different and much earned. It felt dreadful. _

  


_ Hours later, Anna was laying on her bed, unable to sleep, when the soft knock came. _

  


_ “It’s me.” Elsa’s voice was softer now. “Are you awake?” _

  


_ “Come in.” Anna rubbed her eyes, puffy from crying and lack of rest, as she sat herself up.  _

  


_ Elsa crossed softly to the bed and sat down, taking Anna’s hand in hers. “You understand that a man who was raised as a commoner, a man with no grand expectations or desires, someone who really liked it that way because he was completely free, essentially agreed to give up everything, including a job he loves, to marry you, and to spend a life walking two steps behind you, and you threatened to call off your wedding, right?” Her voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it, as she put everything on the table so Anna couldn’t ignore it. _

  


_ Anna bit her lip and looked down at her hands. She couldn’t answer verbally, so she nodded. Elsa kept talking. _

  


_ “I talked to him for a long time after you left. That man loves you, Anna. Loves you so much he’s resigned to give up everything to be with you, whatever it takes. And he would, and he would never resent you for it.” _

  


_ “But he still doesn’t like it.” Anna sniffed slightly, reaching for a handkerchief. “He isn’t really happy.” _

  


_ “He  _ is _ happy. Deliriously, actually. All those things are just things to him. They don’t really matter, as long as he gets to marry you. He’s just overwhelmed right now, Anna.” Elsa sighed. “It’s my fault, partially. And you should know, when I told him that, he shook his head and told me to shut up; that I had done what I needed to do for a life of happiness, that I deserved that.” She shook her head down at her younger sister. “That’s not something you hear every day, and to know that  _ that’s _ the guy who loves you…” Elsa shook her head. “He cried, Anna.” Elsa’s words shook a little, as if she was about to cry, herself. “Do you know I’ve never seen him cry? And it wasn’t a few tears, Anna, he was sobbing.” She shuddered. “It was horrible.” _

  


_ Anna felt horrible. She had only witnessed it a few times, herself, when he was waking from nightmares about her dying. It was the saddest, most gut wrenching sound she had ever experienced. “Is he mad?” _

  


_ “No.” Elsa smiled softly. “He really means it when he says the details don’t matter. He doesn’t like wearing a suit, but if it came down to that or his day clothes or walking naked in front of the whole village, he’d do either one, just to stand next to you. You are the thing that makes him truly happy. His feelings are hurt, clearly. I think you need to give him a few days, come up with a solution.” _

  


“I _ need to come up with a solution?” _

  


_ “Anna,” Elsa said, and her voice sounded a little frustrated. “You’re the one who threatened to call off the wedding. And ultimately, you are his Queen.” Anna gulped. “Give him a job. Once you’re married, he’ll be Prince Consort, and you can appoint him to do whatever you want. He’s spent the last three years with as much time on the ice as he’s spent helping you plan parties. He’s bored.” Anna scowled, but knew it was true. A word from her, and he was quick to abandon his work to help her, even when she knew… “Maybe a little less of that.” Elsa smiled. “I’m sure Gerda would be happy to help you, and so would I, if you ever asked.” She cocked a blonde brow at Anna, who shrugged uselessly.  _

  


_Elsa continued on, “It would have looked odd if I had overruled the council members who attempt to run the ice trade for some commoner who happened to be my sister’s companion. But if I understand the laws correctly, as I’m sure you do,_ you _can._ _Put him in control of the entire ice trade. Full control. Right now, he’s just an overseer. Make him the boss.” Elsa shrugged, as if this was obvious. “He’d do a better job, anyway, than is being done now. And it would be well within his rights as Consort.”_

  


_ Anna mulled this over for a moment. It was a lot to process, and something she truthfully hadn’t put much though into, if she were being honest. She knew the laws, had just been through with Mattias, and the surprising amount of power they allowed to a Prince Consort of Arendelle. The title came with nothing, but almost everything, short the actual crown, could be given over to him. It could also be taken away just as easily, all at the command of the monarch. _

  


_ “Can I think about it?” _

  


Days of thought, she recalled, put into quick action. She had apologized to Kristoff and given him a chance to air his grievances. He’d gone on for quite a while before winding himself, then had asked if she still wanted to marry him. She’d laughed and kissed him. Nothing, she’d said, would change her mind about that.

  


And now, she got to reap the benefits.

  


So many years later, they would spend long hours together while she worked, their desks face to face in the study that had always been occupied by the monarch. He was an equal partner, if a quiet one, helping her through decisions where he could, before being called to the company of the six beautiful souls who occupied their lives. 

  


It meant that her children were being raised by the most loving of fathers, the same man who scolded them when they misbehaved and soothed them when they skinned their knees. And he made sure that those six souls knew just how deep their mother’s love ran.

  


It was what made Anna finally realize that life sometimes meant not being okay with some things, those that were unavoidable due to circumstance, and that those feelings were okay. The crown kept Anna busy, not what she had ever envisioned when she thought about a life with Kristoff. But it was okay, because he made it so. 

  


“Anna?” Kristoff squeezed her hand. “He understands, Anna,” he reassured her. “They all do.”

  


“Only because you remind them every day.” Anna sighed heavily. “Sometimes I’m lucky if I get dinner with them.” She let herself whine a little, knowing he’d prod it out of her sooner or later.

  


“Not always, not lately. Winter’s coming, that’s usually pretty quiet,” he reminded her. “Not so many visiting dignitaries, the Jule Ball, Christmas, New Year’s. You know how much you love giving the kids presents.” Smiling, Kristoff wrapped his arms around her sagging shoulders. “Hey.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead. “I love you. There’s plenty of days of hot cocoa and building forts in the future. Just hang in there.”

  


“Why do you put up with me?” she wondered, propping her chin on his chest.

  


He grinned. “Because I love you.” Then he glanced around and, seeing no one, leaned down and whispered, “And because you let me get your pregnant five times.  _ And _ you let me practice a lot.” She giggled now, from his words, as much as the sensation of his beard tickling against the soft skin of her neck. “And you listen to me—you’re a very good listener.” She heard the voice of the man who spoke to Sara when she was feeling defiant. “Because you’re an amazing mother, and somehow, you’re still the crazy, brilliant, funny, wild woman I fell in love with.” He pulled back, brushing a stand of hair that had come loose from her braid back from her face. “Not many people get that lucky.”

  


“Kai is going to come around that corner any minute, and we still have things to figure out.” She pulled back, blushing, and took his hand again. “Come on.” She dragged him to the library, and once the heavy door was closed, she finally felt like she could breathe again. “We have to figure this out. She’s not going to sleep forever.” Plopping onto their favorite couch, she stared into the fire as she considered.

  


He sighed, his brow furrowing. “I know.”

  


“Kristoff,” she said quietly, though the carpets and rich curtains soaked up most sounds that might have made it through the heavy oak, “did you see her? I mean,  _ really _ look at her? When she was awake, I mean.”

  


“I did.” Kristoff sat down next to her, one leg crossing over the other as he leaned back, gazing at the flickering flames as if in a trance. “She looks like Ivor. Like…”

  


He didn’t want to say the name, so she did. “She looks like Hans. It has to be her,” Anna continued. “It’s not just the hair, it’s everything. Same eyes, same nose—”

  


“And very good with the look.”

  


“What look?”

  


“You know, the look.” Kristoff hoisted his chin and glared down his nose. “That regal, princess look you all have.”

  


“I do  _ not  _ look like that.”

  


“Oh, think again, my love. Remember that state dinner last month?”

  


“That countess was  _ so rude _ !” Anna hissed, and her nose went right up in the air.  _ Damn it. _ Kristoff pointed, raising his eyebrows, and Anna rolled her eyes. “That’s beside the point. Did you see the cloak she had?”

  


“I know. Silk lined, royal blue, good fabric. It wasn’t cheap. Neither was anything else she had on, to be honest. Boots looked expensive.” 

  


“And her name is Julia, and she’s  _ almost  _ twelve,” Anna reminded him. “Ivor said it was almost her birthday.”

  


“He also said her parents barely seem to care, they’re more concerned with marrying some creep off to another daughter so the deal doesn’t go south. It’s disgusting. It’s archaic.”

  


Just like Princess Julia, Anna thought.

  


“It’s how some people do business, Kristoff.” It still made Anna’s stomach roll.

  


“Not these days,” he argued. “I think most people would be on our side here. She’s a kid being told she’s going to have to marry some stranger—”

  


“Lots of princesses have arranged marriages, Kristoff.” Anna wrinkled her nose. Distasteful as it was, it was one of those stupid legalities that still existed in so many places. The value of a woman never seemed as high, something Anna often fought against, herself. It would be difficult to argue. “I think most would agree eleven is a little young to be betrothed, but it’s not unheard of.”

  


“It’s disgusting.”

  


“I’m not arguing with you on that,” she agreed. She smiled, taking his hand and running the other up into his hair, trying to smooth away the furrowed brow. “I got lucky. I got to marry anyone I wanted.”

  


He turned his head and kissed her palm. “I love you.”

  


“I love you.” She reached for his free hand and pulled his arm around her, guiding it until he took over the movement himself, wrapping around her waist and pulling her against his side. They stayed that way for a while, staring into the fire in silent contemplation.

  


“So, do nothing, say nothing?” Anna finally asked.

  


“Not until we know, no. Maybe not even then. And realistically,” Kristoff added, “we may not know one way or another for a long time. She may not tell us.” He nuzzled against the side of her head. “I still have things I’ve only told you.”

  


Anna shuddered. Kristoff’s childhood should have ended with him dead or permanently damaged. The serendipitous miracle of him constantly being in the right place at the right time had led him to the trolls, who protected him from the worst of the world, then to her. He was as lucky as she. “What if we just asked her? Got it out in the open now, made sure she knows we won’t say anything?”

  


“Might backfire. She doesn’t know us.”

  


“And if it takes years?”

  


“Then it takes years.” He kissed softly at her neck. “Long as you don’t mind having a spare kid wandering around.”

  


She smiled. “I don’t mind. I know  _ you _ won’t,” she teased. “Children are drawn to you. You’re like the Pied Piper.” He scoffed, but looked pleased. “So we take her with us tomorrow. She can spend some time with the children. Who knows, maybe they’ll all get along. They’re good kids.” Kristoff laughed now, and Anna scowled at him. “Don’t laugh, they are! I’m not just saying that because they’re ours, I’m saying that because the only problems they ever dish out is occasionally taking sides when Axel and Anita fight.”

  


They settled into contemplative silence, and Anna found herself reflecting again on their life, and their family. Anna knew it was something he had never aspired to when he had been younger, but that she now could not imagine him any other way. Marrying him and having his children had been the most rewarding gift she had ever received. 

  


Kristoff and Anna had enjoyed fourteen beautiful years of marriage together, and those happy years had led to six healthy, if rambunctious, children. Elias was the oldest, and thankfully, the calmest, and the one with the most internal sense of responsibility. He was the model oldest child, model heir, model son. Upon meeting the Crown Prince of Arendelle, dignitaries and commoners alike could not help but adore him. He was devoted, loving, and affectionate, making sure to look out for his younger siblings, to keep them on the straight and narrow. 

  


The rest of the children arrived in a marathon of pregnancy. Two years after Elias was born, Kristin had arrived, as blonde and nearly as big as her brother. As they grew, both children resembled their father strongly in their looks and build. Kristin was still shorter than Anna, but not by much. Built more like her father and brother, she had a heartier build to her than Anna’s, but in a way that made both parents sure that she would be driving away boys with a stick when she got older. She was also like her father in demeanor, putting on a tough front to strangers, treating her family with the warmest heart. She had just enough Anna in her to enjoy a pretty dress or a nice piece of jewlery, and she was as happy in palace finery as she was in the simpler clothes worn when visiting her Aunt Elsa or tagging along with her father. She could fall asleep anywhere, and was almost as adept at driving the sled as her father.

  


Anna had given up on having children that looked like her. But Kristoff promised that the likelihood of all their children looking like him, especially if they kept having them, was slim.

  


And as promised, the twins she bore two years later had strawberry hair and bright blue eyes that barely faded as they got older. Axel, born twenty minutes before his sister, was wiry in build and personality, and Anita was an exact, miniature replica of her mother in every way possible. They were fiercely loyal to each other, but also had the ability to infuriate each other with a few callous words now and then. 

  


Oskar had arrived two years after the twins, looking, much to the surprise of the entire family, like a tiny boy Elsa. His hair was blonde, but it was significantly paler than his siblings. His blue eyes stayed like ice chips as he grew. He was slight, almost waifish, and striking to look at. He was quiet and contemplative, but he would always giggle when his older brothers made jokes, and was usually the peacemaker when the twins fought. He was only six, but he was a wise little soul. His parents and aunt often joked that if he hadn’t come from Anna, they could swear he was Elsa’s child.

  


Four year old Sara was still developing, but she seemed the most balanced of the children in behavior and look to her parents. Her laugh sounded like Anna’s, her smile like her mother’s and the way her whole body moved with it exactly resembling Anna. But if you spoke seriously to her, as you could only with the youngest children, she took on an expression of solemnity that looked like Kristoff when he was in deep contemplation. Her hair was blonde, but her eyes were the shape and color of her mother. Her nose was initially a mystery, until Anna announced that she seemed to have a nose like her father, Agnar. Her ears were shaped like Anna’s, but she had Kristoff’s strong chin, and what Anna had long since deemed the “Dad Look.” When she thought her siblings were acting foolishly, little Sara would give them the look that, previously, only Kristoff had mastered. Embarrassed to be chastised by a toddler, the children—nearly always Axel and Anita—would quiet down, only to be descended on by Oskar.

  


Of all the children, even Axel and Anita, Elias and Kristin had the strongest bond. That was what troubled her now. If Elias didn’t tell Kristin that their parents had taken in a strange girl from the forest, it would be a miracle, even if the boy promised. Anna knew there were secrets between the two of them that were never revealed to their parents, only because Kristoff had once overheard a conversation confirming this theory.

  


It was a tight family, Anna considered. Where would little Julia fit in?

  


Her hope that, as they had with every change and addition, the family would adapt as needed to accept her in. The likelihood that the children would ever know their suspicions about Julia’s origins seemed low to Anna. There was simply no need. She would simply be a ward, one that they felt inexplicably responsible for, and they could leave it at that. It saddened her a little, but it seemed the best decision.

  


“Anna?” A warm hand slid into hers. “You okay?”

  


“Sorry.” She shook his head, looking back at Kristoff. He had an eyebrow raised and looked amused.

  


“Where were you?”

  


“Just thinking about the kids.” It was true. “How much things have changed.” Also true. “How I don’t think we can tell them about this.” Anna sighed. “And as much as it kills me, I know it breaks your heart so much more than I can imagine.” She scooted closer on the couch until their thighs pressed tightly together. “I love you so much. You’re really the best father, you know?”

  


“For lying to my kids?”

  


“For protecting them. We could be totally wrong. She could just be some runaway who comes from tough times. We could be jumping to conclusions—”

  


“But we have to have contingencies,” Kristoff interjected. “They’re safer if they don’t know. At least, until they’re older.”

  


She squeezed his hand again. “My parents kept things from me, from Elsa, and it hurt to find that out. I  _ know _ how hard this is for you, honey.” She leaned forward so her head was tucked under his chin. “We can only hope that they’ll understand when the time comes,  _ if _ the time comes, that we need to tell them. Let’s hope we’re crazy, and they never have to find out.”

  


Kristoff laughed at this, holding onto her a little more tightly. “I love you, you know. A lot may have changed, but that hasn’t.”

  


“I love you, too.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I love everything about you, even more than I did when I met you, if that’s possible.”

  


“I didn’t have the dad beard then.”

  


“See, that’s what I mean! I love your dad beard.” She kissed his other cheek, cupping his chin. “It’s manly.” She grinned, knowing the library was no place for an afternoon tryst, but whispering anyway, “You had to give me two babies before that happened.”

  


They dissolved on the couch, giggling like school children for several long minutes before sobering again.

  


“I have a little more work to do,” she said, her voice regretful. “And the kids will be done with their lesson soon. You should get up there.”

  


“I’ll have Gerda take them outside,” he said, kissing her nose. “You’ll get done faster, then we can sit them down before dinner to tell them about Julia.”

  


The afternoon whizzed by, Kristoff helping Anna as she sorted through letters, determining which needed an urgent answer, and which could wait a few days. The wait pile was mercifully the larger of the two, and she jotted out responses as quickly as he could add letters to the urgent pile.

  


They were left with about an hour to deliver the news to the children, who took it, only somewhat surprisingly, very well. Anna was surprised to see the same expression on Kristin’s face of genuine shock, followed by understanding. It matched the other children, and Anna realized that Elias had kept their secret, after all.

  


The time for dinner neared, and the children were whisked off to be scrubbed clean and nicely dressed to welcome their guest. Kristoff and Anna changed quickly, dressing more for comfort than finery, hoping to appear less imposing to the little girl who had stumbled into their care. Anna carried with her a change of clothes, an old dress of Kristin’s that looked like it would fit Julia’s slight build.

  


A maid sat outside, shaking her head when Anna asked without speaking if the girl had emerged. The maid shook her head, but mouthed, “She’s awake.” 

  


“You can go,” Anna whispered, and the young woman disappeared without question. Anna knocked, and a soft voice called to come in.

  


Little Julia was sitting on the edge of the bed, which was made perfectly, as though she had never been tucked in. When they appeared in the door, she hopped down, dropping into a deep curtsy, and stayed there until Kristoff spoke, a bit bewildered. “ _ Did _ the maid come in?”

  


“No.” Julia looked confused. “Was she supposed to?”

  


“No, it’s just the bed.” He gestured, allowing Anna to enter ahead of him while he hovered in the doorframe. “You know, it’s made.”

  


“Yes, I did that,” the girl said, very matter-of-factly. She looked confused. “Was I not supposed to?”

  


“No, it’s fine.” Anna interjected now, sensing a rising uncertainty in the girl. “I like to make my bed sometimes. That way I know it’s done right.” She was fibbing. She only made the bed when she made a mess of it and felt too guilty to drag a maid in to fix it.

  


The little girl nodded slowly. “Well,” she said, her voice cautious, as if she were trying to get a sense of them, “it’s not that I like to, so much, as my father told me I must.”

  


“Did he now?” Anna stopped in front of the girl, her hands held gently, non-threatenly, at her sides.

  


“My brother had his bed made by his maid, and a nurse to take care of him. I had to make my bed and get food from the kitchens as soon as I was old enough to walk and talk. I never did anything but be born, and my father treated me like I was worthless. Or worse, a huge bother and a waste of time and resources.”

  


“Are those your words, or your fathers?”

  


“Both.”

  


Anna paused, before smiling slightly. “Well, Julia, it’s time for dinner. I hope Kristoff told you about…” She trailed off.

  


“Yes, Your Majesty,” the little girl said, all genuine politeness. “I understand who you are, and where I am, and I am so grateful…” She trailed off, hands wringing together. She seemed not quite to know what to say. This was the nervousness Kristoff had spoken of, that scared part of her that spoke to him on a different level.

  


Anna saw his shoulders tense as she asked softly, “Julia, is there anything you want to tell us?” She reached out to rest a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You’re safe here, I promise. You can say anything you want to say.”

  


“I…” Julia choked on her words as a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

  


“It’s okay, Julia,” Kristoff said, stepping inside and closing the door. “You only have to tell us anything if you want. And don't worry,” he added, “you're not going anywhere right now where you don't feel safe.”

  


“I was awake,” Julia blurted abruptly. “I was awake when you were talking before.” Tears were now streaming down her face as she sobbed out, “You heard what Uncle Ivor said. Father wants me to marry this awful man, and he's ten years older than me, and he’s horrible, and my father doesn't care because all I am to him is a bother and a waste of time.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth slightly. “Please don't make me go back there! I’ll die of misery if I go back there!” It was a dramatic outburst for such a young child, but her feelings were clearly genuine.

  


Kristoff was right, like always. Under the bravado, the disguise, and the regal air of a princess, she was a scared little girl.

  


And this  _ was _ the Julia they’d thought, the runaway princess who Anna now knew she could never send home.

  


Anna sat down, pulling Julia with her. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” She felt tears in her eyes, saw Kristoff starting to mist up, as well. “For now, you're just a little girl we know nothing about, and you're staying here as long as you need. Kristoff found you,” she said, nodding toward her husband, and he gave the girl a reassuring smile, “and felt responsible for you. Nobody will question it. We’ll make sure. How does that sound?” 

  


The little girl threw her arms around Anna, to the surprise of them both. “Oh, thank you, Your Majesty! I promise I won't cause any trouble. I'll be quiet and good and I won't ask for much. I won't ask for anything, if it makes things easier.”

  


“Now, what kind of queen would I be if I allowed that?” Anna asked, forcing back the tears with a bright smile. Julia pulled away just enough to see her face. “Anything you want, sweetheart. You just have to ask. And just so you know,” she added, smiling mischievously now, “the big guy there? He’s Kristoff to you, and he’s just a big marshmallow in bear’s skin. And I’m Anna.” Julia giggled as Kristoff rolled his eyes. “Now, I’ve got a change of clothes for you. Do you need any help?”

  


“No, ma’am—”

  


“Anna.” 

  


Julia smiled shyly up at her. “Anna. I can dress myself.”

  


They left her alone, Anna pulling the door closed before suddenly collapsing against Kristoff’s broad chest. She muffled her sobs into his shirt, fists tightly clenched in the fabric where she had wound her arms around his waist. Any hope of this being uncomplicated had vanished, but there was no way Anna could send the poor child back to a fate she wouldn’t wish on her own children.

  


“Oh, Kristoff,” she gasped, “what are we going to do?”

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Kristoff play dirty politics with Benjamin to keep Julia safe. Julia begins to fit in with the Bjorgman children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut at the end of this chapter, which spans about two years. One more time jump, then we're off to the races!
> 
> Please also keep in mind the times. We're talking 1800s when children had almost no rights and were the property of their fathers. Many people understood that abusing a child was not a good way to raise them, but Julia’s parents don't fit that mold.

Julia shyly emerged from her room for breakfast the next morning when Kristoff went to get her. She occasionally eyed him cautiously on the way down, clearly looking to size him up, while he did his best to look unassuming. He’d dressed casually, fully prepared for the day to be spent chasing and corralling six rambunctious Bjorgman children, not sure how Julia would react, but hopeful nonetheless.

Dinner the night before had been unusually quiet, almost formal. Kristoff had made sure his children were raised to be respectful and polite, both for the sake of propriety and for his own sanity. Over the years, he had become the parent his children least enjoyed answering to when they were in trouble. Anna may be Queen of Arendelle, but the Prince Consort was far scarier to them. 

“We will have to inform the Prince of this, of course.”

“I’m sure you understand we will have to notify His Royal Highness.”

“Just you _wait_ until your father hears this!”

Now, at breakfast, he was grateful for everything he had learned, for his wife’s frequent rescuing of him from making any enormous parental failures, as the children again stayed exceptionally well behaved. Elias chewed with his mouth closed, Kristin sat up straight, and the twins refrained from flinging anything at each other. The youngest two still ate in their nursery. Kristoff would collect them when everything else was ready to go. He had long since learned Sara’s intolerance to being told to hurry up and wait.

“Julia,” Anna said, and Kristoff noticed when she caught his eye at once. “We’re going to all go up the mountain a bit today to do some fishing, picnic, relax. It’s very pretty, very quiet. I would love for you to join us, but if you’d rather stay here, it’s totally fine.” She waved her fork through the air, Kristoff bemusedly noticing she was the most casual of all of them. “They're all so unsuspecting right now, but they're really a wild and crazy bunch.” She grinned at Kristoff. “Am I right?”

“They’ve got potential,” he mused, eyeing Kristin when she giggled. “Especially that one. You’ve got to keep an eye on her. Likes to hide in the back of sleighs and sneak up to the harvest grounds.”

“Only twice.” Kristin blushed down at her eggs.

“She means she only got caught twice.” Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “That she knows of, anyway.”

“So what do you say?” Anna’s eyes were warm as she gazed down the table at their newest arrival. “You don’t have to go fishing. I like to just sit in the shade and enjoy the view. Whatever sounds like fun to you.”

Julia gazed down the table with a stare that stayed blank for a full minute. “I…” She glanced nervously from Anna to Kristoff and back again. Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yes, thank you. That sounds nice.”

Hours later, Kristoff lay on his back with his head in Anna’s lap, watching while Kristin and Elias attempted to teach Julia how to fish. She was struggling, but it seemed to be doing her good. More than once, when she had failed, Julia had flinched, as if she expected to be yelled at, but Kristin, with all her good nature, would just remind her that it took time, and they would reset and start again. Julia was becoming comfortable more quickly with Kristin than she seemed to be with Anna and Kristoff, and they allowed her just to be a child with other children.

“She still seems so nervous,” Anna murmured, her voice low enough that only Kristoff could hear. “She was so anxious when she got a little dirt on the bottom of her skirt.”

“She’s traumatized.” Kristoff sighed as her fingers worked through his hair. “She keeps flinching because she’s waiting for someone to hit her. She’s never known kindness, Anna. Fear like that doesn’t disappear overnight.”

Anna was quiet for a moment, then she asked, very quietly almost as if she were afraid of the answer, “How long did it take you?”

“Once I met you, it was pretty quick. But that took years.” Another sigh as he contemplated the perpetual rough patch that had been his childhood. “God, I’m tired.”

“Take a nap.” Anna smiled. “I’ll sit still, I promise.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” But he closed his eyes all the same, drifting quickly under the soothing feeling of her fingers in his hair, the sound of laughing children having a calming effect.

He didn’t wake until he felt something in his hair.

Giggles met his ears—Sara and Oskar—and he felt something tickle his face. He opened his eyes to find the pair of them hovering over him. They shrieked and ran away, Kristoff sitting up, a bit confused. Anna was giggling now, too, and he gave her an inquisitive look as he raised a hand, feeling something soft and distinctly not hairlike in his beard. He pulled away a last lingering, soft yellow flower, groaning. “How bad is it?”

“I’m thinking of having your title changed to Prince of the Flowers.” She leaned forward, giggling, to pluck another flower from his hair. “You look pretty, honey.”

“Yeah?” He grinned over at Oskar and Sara. “What do you think?”

“Very pretty, Papa,” Sara giggled.

“Pretty enough to be a princess?”

“Oh, Papa, don't be silly.” Sara's little voice was stern. “Only girls can be princesses.”

“I stand corrected.” Rolling onto all fours, he made a show of groveling on all fours. “Please, Princess, I beg of you, forgive me!” Oskar was clutching his sides now, face red from his hysterics, quiet as they were. Kristoff could see Anna watching out of the corner of his eye, a broad, warm smile filling her face. Kristoff took Sara's little hand, kissing the fingers. “I am your most humble servant.”

Then Sara giggled. “You're silly, Papa.”

Kristoff lunged onto his feet, swinging the little girl up into his arms and holding her tight while he swung her round, her feet kicking wildly. Sara's shrieks of delight filled his ears until he finally let go, rolling her dizzily onto the ground toward Anna. He watched his wife curl their youngest into her arms, burying her face in Sara's blonde hair. Sara gave a contented little sigh and snuggled back into Anna. His girls wore identical smiles and he felt his heart burst again at the love he felt for his wife and their children.

“You still have flowers in your hair.” Anna smiled up at him, looking just like the cat who got the cream. “And your beard.”

Later, as they loaded the wagon, long after Kristoff had been preened by his wife and around when the tired twins were just starting to squabble, Kristoff's ear finally caught something. Kristin and Julia, whispering softly. Kristin was shaking her head with a small frown furrowing her brow. She started to say something, but Julia gave her a wordless, pleading expression, and Kristin sighed. She whispered something in Julia’s ear, gave the girl a quick hug that seemed to shock the redhead, then the pair of them were clambering on with the rest.

Later that night, he finally found out what it was about. As he tucked the covers under Kristin’s chin later that night, she asked softly, “Papa? Can I ask you a question?”

He could feel the nerves emanating from her, so he teased her, tickling her under her chin. “Well, you just did, so, not really sure where that leaves us.”

Kristin giggled and squirmed, then twisted and served him a severe look for a child her age. She would be ten soon, he mused, wondering when his little girl had grown up. “Pay attention, Papa. It’s very important.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s just, when you had all the flowers in your hair and we all thought it was funny, Julia asked why you weren’t mad. And so I told her, well, you don’t get mad very often, and she started to ask something then she stopped and I kept on her until she would tell me…” She stumbled to a stop. “Do some parents beat their kids?” 

Oh, Christ. Well, at least Julia had found someone with whom she was comfortable.

Kristin seemed to realize she had shocked him, and hurriedly continued, “She didn’t want to tell me, I just promised I’d keep it to myself, but I just don’t understand why anybody would do something like that.” She bit her lip, her big brown eyes looking up at him with something akin to sadness, mixed with confusion. “Is it true?”

Kristoff sighed heavily, finding himself wishing Anna were with him instead of the twins. “Listen to me, sweetheart.” He reached down, tucking back that stubborn lock at the front of her hair that loved to come loose from her braids, no matter how tightly he did them. “You know I would _never_ hurt you, right?” Kristin nodded, eyes wide, and he continued. “I love you too much to ever do anything to hurt you. And your mom,” he added, smiling slightly, “would happily have me tried, convicted, and executed if I did.”

Kristin finally smiled again, just a little. “Mama would never do that.”

“Well, we’ll never know.” He sighed, knowing he hadn’t answered her question. “Julia’s father is not a nice man. He’s very dangerous, and he didn’t love Julia like we love you. That’s not her fault—I guarantee, she never did anything to deserve it. Do you understand why we can’t tell anyone that?”

Kristin nodded solemnly. “Yes, Papa. We have to keep her here and keep her safe.” She snuggled a bit more deeply into her blankets. “I really like Julia, Papa. Did you see how hard she worked? She could cast almost as well as Elias at the end of the day!”

“Not as well as you, though?” he teased.

Kristin rolled her eyes. “I’m better at fishing than Elias, _everybody_ knows that.” Her brown eyes closed as she sighed softly. “Goodnight, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

By the time he was carefully closing the door, soft little snores, just like her mother’s, were slipping from her already slackened jaw. He smiled softly, wondering, not for the first time, how he had managed to be so lucky.

* * *

In the end, they decided Mattias and Ivor needed to know.

Julia had become fast friends with the children. She stuck to the simplified story that she ran away from home because her parents had been cruel to her, and no one questioned the validity of her claims. 

Over the next few days, they noticed little things about her. She would flinch at sudden, loud sounds, so the children quickly learned not to be quite so dramatic with each other when she was around. When standing close to her, they moved slower than usual, especially at first, as not to startle her. They didn't roughhouse with her, and were being gentler to each other than was usual for them. They enjoyed trying to make her laugh, and Kristin especially seemed engaged in the task of making her as comfortable as possible, showing her around the castle and making her feel at home.

But the fact that she was keeping a child, in secret, knowing full well who she was, weighed on Anna’s heart. She knew Benjamin wouldn’t care for Julia’s welfare as Anna would have if it were one of her own, but she still felt he had some right, as her father, to know where his daughter was.

When she told Kristoff, he was not initially convinced of its being a good idea, but when Anna started to question the legality of it, and whether or not it could be deemed kidnapping, Kristoff found himself agreeing, in part, with his wife.

  
General Mattias would know what to do, so he was the first to know.

Mattias was quiet for a long time after they revealed the truth to him. “Bergland,” he began slowly, “is not on the best of terms with us right now, and at their fault. Benjamin had no problems giving up his daughter for money to a stranger once, so why wouldn't he feel the same now? I'm sure he owes us more than that man he was willing to allow to wed his child.”

“We loaned them money,” Anna recalled, frowning, “and they still haven't made any effort to pay it back. Are you saying we use an eleven year old child as some kind of collateral?”

“I'm saying, to avoid causing any kind of political tension, you write to her father. Lay all your cards on the table. Tell him you know about the abuse, that his brother confirmed it in his own hand. It's not illegal to beat your own children then marry them off, but it doesn't look good, especially when you're part of the same family that owes us not a small amount of gold. It would cause more embarrassment to the family, to the name. Possibly damage already fragile relationships with their neighbors, _maybe_ turn Ivor against him even further. The girl said he thinks she's worthless; let’s count on that. You’re fair and kind rulers, after all. She stays here, we take responsibility for her care and upbringing, pay for her dowry, if needed, keep her safe from her father and anyone else who would want to marry her simply because she's a Westergaard, and call it even. 

“And,” he continued, slow and contemplative, “we all agree to say nothing. Nobody knows about the money, or about who she is or how she got here, and they just accept her disappearance and publicly mourn her, if they want. She might have better luck as a daughter of Arendelle. And I also recommend telling King Ivor, while asking him to maintain secrecy, which I believe he would. He's dealt with enough embarrassment from Benjamin over the years. With all of that together, I can't imagine Benjamin would refuse.”

Anna felt her jaw hanging slack, not sure what to say, but her husband had a few words.

“And all the time, we keep Benjamin’s secret and lie for him?” Kristoff's eyes were flashing. 

“Don't forget, sir, we loaned that money because we need the river’s access, and need to keep good relations with them to pass peacefully. Secretly letting them off the hook, while taking an unwanted mouth to feed off their hands?” Mattias shook his head sadly. “I know it seems cold, but it would keep Princess Julia here, safe.”

“And what if Ivor decides he should have her? He's her blood kin, after all.”

Mattias looked doubtful. “Ivor has quite a few mouths to feed himself. There's very seldom such a thing as a small Westergaard family. Given the circumstances, I think he'll be happy with the arrangement. He's a reasonable man. And keeping the secret means less family drama, which is good for all involved.”

“Well, General,” Anna said, rising to her feet, “I guess we have some letters to write.”

“And a visit to the Southern Isles,” Kristoff added. “A short one, just to bolster good relations, officially. Ivor needs to hear it in person.”

* * *

Ivor, as predicted, was amenable to their plan.

“I've nine of my own,” he bemoaned, “and we are not as fortunate in our finances as you, as I'm sure you know.” He sighed as they walked along the garden path of his moderate castle. “If it hadn't been for Hans, things would still be as they were. As it is, anything extra we earn has to go into the Navy. Keep up appearances, you know.”

“You know we forgive you for that.” Anna clutched a little tighter to Kristoff’s arm. “We made a public statement.”

“And it was kind of you,” Ivor said, his voice gentle but laced with something that sounded like shame, “but the damage was done. We are the family of a man who attempted regicide. People want him dead, but I just can’t.” He sighed, staring into the sunset with an intensity in his gaze. “Try as I might to hate him, he’s my brother. We weren’t always the kindest to him. And some of my brothers, as you know, have no qualms about what he did. We’ve fractured as a family, and that never looks good. Your sister may no longer be queen, but she is the godmother to your children, still loved and revered in Arendelle. A happy family goes a long way in keeping up appearances, just as a damaged one can hurt those same appearances.”

“I’m sorry, Ivor,” Anna said softly. And she was. While a bit cool at times, Ivor was, at heart, a good man, and a loving father. She could see the joy in his eyes when his children were around him, knew he loved them as she loved her own. “No one but Hans was responsible for his actions. You shouldn’t have to pay the price.”

“Still…” The King of the Southern Isles was quiet for a long moment as they walked along. “And I have your word you’ll be good to the child? She’s such a bright young thing, she doesn’t deserve the cruelty and mockery of her family. And my brother’s abuse of her,” Ivor continued, a shudder wracking his body, “was always so out of balance with his other children. He wasn’t warm with his older daughters, but I never saw him raise a hand to them. 

“And he spoils that son of his,” he growled, “while his youngest suffered the life of a glamorous peasant. Barely saw her above once a week, made her eat alone in her room. He tried to break that little girl.”

Anna had never seen Ivor truly angry, but it flashed in his eyes now. It had always been clear that he held a great deal of disdain for Benjamin, but now, she could see how he truly felt, now that they knew more.

Anna blinked away tears, feeling Kristoff’s fist clenching under her hand. She wrapped her fingers in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I promise you, Ivor, on my life, we will take care of Julia. She won’t suffer the shame of her father. We’ll make her happy, I swear.”

Ivor stopped in the path, and they made it a few steps before pausing to turn back to him. He was staring now not at the sunset or Anna, but at Kristoff. “And you’ll show her,” Ivor implored slowly, “that a father is not a brute like hers. Teach her not to fear men, that most of us aren’t cruel and unfeeling.”

“Yes, sir.” Kristoff bowed slightly, and Anna hid a proud smile. “We’ll show her what a family is supposed to be.”

“And tell her…” Ivor swallowed, the motion seeming difficult. “You’ll tell her how sorry I am that I haven’t the means to take her in, myself. It doesn’t mean I don’t love her—I do, dearly. But she’ll be better off in Arendelle. No one there would ever recognize her. She’ll have an easier life.”

“Of course.”

And that was that. 

Julia’s father wrote back in short order, agreeing quickly and without question to their terms, replying brusquely that it would be in the best interest of all to resolve the matter quietly. He waived all rights to his daughter in writing, leaving her in the custody of the royal family of Arendelle with no conditions.

King Benjamin of Bergland never again corresponded with Queen Anna of Arendelle.

* * *

So it was that Julia Olsen became a permanent fixture in Arendelle. It amazed Anna that no one questioned the family’s decision to take her in. 

It _was_ widely known that her husband was an orphan, that the family had a soft spot for helping children throughout the kingdom that found themselves alone and in need. They donated personally to the small, private orphanage in the town, making sure everything needed was available, that the care offered was the best, and that the wellbeing of the children was carefully looked after. But talking to the people of Arendelle, it seemed as if God had put Prince Kristoff up on the ice fields at just the right time to find this one himself, and take her home.

Because the official story was that the girl was an orphan, not a runaway. The Bjorgman children knew more of the truth, not that she was Ivor’s niece but that she'd been well bred and badly treated by her father, and kept it secret. It was never discussed. Julia had no family, and so now, she fit into theirs.

Two years after coming to Arendelle, Julia was just another one of the children who ran around the palace, loud and happy and vibrant. She had a warm heart and a sharp tongue, and she held her own quite well. She had adjusted to the noisy, happy family, and she now got in with the best of them. She and Kristin spent long hours together, whispering and giggling behind their hands, hiding their laughing faces behind needlework and knitting, racing their horses down country paths on afternoon rides with the family.

Today had been her birthday, the third they had celebrated so far. On arrival, Anna and Kristoff had ascertained that the girl had never had a birthday party. In mid December, they had thrown her a small but wild party with just family. She took part in family games, coming out of her shell more every minute, laughing while she rode Sven around the sitting room.

This birthday was louder than the first, ending in a contest to see which kid could slide fastest down the banister. There was cake, and Elsa was there, making little things for the children with her ice magic. Kristoff allowed himself to be tackled over and over, much to the delight of all the children, giving Julia a warm hug and birthday wishes before she scooted off to bed with Kristin to the room the two girls now shared, at their request.

And that night, when the children were all crashed out in their rooms, Anna pulled her husband to their bedroom as quickly as possible. Watching Kristoff on dad-duty just made her want him more. There was something so beautiful, so masculine about watching him throwing the children over his body with his feet, sending them flying into piles of pillows and creating laughing heaps.

She was a desperate woman, and he seemed to have no problem with that as she stopped them for a minute to desperately press her lips to his.

He laughed as they stumbled. Anna had allowed herself to relax, having an extra glass or two more wine than she normally would, and it made her giddy and clumsier than usual. She giggled when he finally hoisted her over his shoulder, lengthening his strides to reach their room more quickly.

Once inside, he locked the door behind him, tossed another log on the fire, and carried her to bed. He tossed her down as she continued giggling.

“I’m impressed we made it in one piece. I thought we were going down at one point,” he teased.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she ordered, tugging at the sash around his waist. He was on her in the blink of an eye, all warmth and solid muscle above her, covering her to her toes with his particular brand of heat. His lips invaded hers and she moaned, wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders as he shifted his weight above her, careful not to press into her too hard. She wasn’t having that. She pulled him tighter, wrapping a leg around his waist. He grunted as he collapsed, giving in as she ground herself against him.

“What do you need?” Kristoff whispered, his lips drifting to her ear, breath hot.

“I need you,” she whispered back, her voice wanton. “On me. In me. Everywhere.”

After so many years, Kristoff knew when she wanted to be romanced with slow, passionate lovemaking, and when she wanted to be tossed around the bed. He understood the tone of her voice, hands hands beginning quickly to undress her. She squealed when he tossed her up onto the pillows, completely nude while he still remained partially dressed. At some point, his shirt and sash had been lost, and he remained in his breeches, suspenders hanging down his legs, looking every bit the mountain man she had married.

It was that rough hewn man she wanted now, and he didn’t disappoint.

He took complete charge of her, pinning her hands down as he attacked her neck, then her breasts. She squirmed impatiently as he made his way to the ginger patch over her mound, looking up at her.

“Is this what you want?” His eyes, darker than they had been an hour ago as he’d laughed with their children, shined up at her. He licked slowly up the apex of her thighs, and she cried out when he tongued her nub. Then he stopped, looking back up at her. “Is it?” She whimpered, nodding, but he clucked his tongue at her, shaking his head and driving her wild. “You have to say it, Anna. And make sure to ask nicely.”

He was terrible. He was maddening. He was amazing. His breath was hot on her as he hovered above her. “Oh, God, Kristoff, please, yes, please keep going, please…” She trailed off, crying out into the night, her voice echoing off the walls. It didn’t matter. No one’s rooms were close enough to hear them. He moaned as he tasted her again, his tongue hot on her flesh. His fingers joined his mouth, sliding two into her wet flesh, his wrist twisting so that when he crooked his fingers, she saw stars. It was abrupt, a little rough, and exactly what she wanted.

And just as she was about to tumble over the edge, he abruptly halted, pulling away. She whimpered briefly before seeing that he was removing his breeches, kicking them off with the stockings she knew he hated, but that he wore for her. She watched with eyes hooded as he freed himself from the restrictive clothing, kicking it across the room toward a dark corner. His erection sprang free and he knelt at the foot of the bed, seeming to contemplate something. His eyes scanned her prone form darkly, and she gazed over his looming form in the firelight.

Kristoff had always been a large man. The first time she’d seen him with his shirt off, about a year after he came to stay with them at the palace, it had been when she had accidentally dumped ink on his shirt, and he’d quickly removed it to avoid it soaking into his skin. She had blushed, admiring the ripples of his muscles as his arms worked the shirt over his head, revealing the lean, chiseled torso beneath.

Since then, if possible, he had only become more handsome. He actually seemed to grow a bit taller in that first year or two, gaining another inch or so of height. For a while, she’d thought it was the boots he now wore, but one night, saying goodnight after an evening of family games, she realized as they both stood in their slippers that he was actually taller. She had to reach up further on her toes to kiss him, and he’d laughed when she’d pointed it out, saying it was possible.

The only difference between the man she married and the man who now knelt at the end of her bed was the full beard that covered his face, and a little gray at the temples. The beard, he claimed, was because with a pace of a child every two years, being the parent who changed more diapers and did more of the juggling that child rearing demanded, he seldom had time to shave. He trimmed it once a week now, quickly rubbing beard oil in on his way out the door in the morning. The gray was also from the strain, and Anna often worried that he took on more than he had signed up for, but he always reassured her, with warmth in his eyes and a smile on his face, that he wouldn’t have it any other way. And, he reminded her, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have help. There were two nannies and the entire palace staff to help raise them. The children knew everyone on the grounds by name from an early age, Kristoff making sure they understood how each individual was important.

Thinking this, she had a brief moment of self consciousness. While it was nothing too shocking, she had changed since they’d married. Her hips had widened, and though she was still trim, she certainly had more curves than before. Her backside and bosom seemed to have swollen with permanence, and she wondered if he ever thought about it.

“You’re doing that thing.” Anna blinked, her eyes finding his. He had sunk back on his heels, erection still standing strong, an amused expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Anna…” He crawled over her, peppering her face with kisses. He hovered, touching her, but only just. When she tried to squirm closer, he pulled away, back onto his heels again. “I’m not making love to you while worrying about what you’re thinking.”

“You call that love making?” She teased him softly, wanting his strong reaction.

“Fine, fucking,” he amended, and she giggled. “I’m not fucking you until you tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Well, if you won’t fuck me,” she retorted, loving how his eyes darkened further as his pupils dilated, “would you make love to me?”

Kristoff huffed. “Come on, Anna!”

“Do you ever think about the fact that I look like I’ve had six kids?”

His face softened at this, and he reached down, pulling her to his lap as me maneuvered into a sitting position. “Oh, honey, you don’t really worry about that, do you?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. I was just thinking you look the same as you did when we got married—”

“The hell I do!” He gestured to his face. “I grew a beard! I have gray hair, Anna! I mean, look at this! I swear I found more this morning. I think the twins will be the death of me.”

“I mean _this.”_ She ran a hand down his bared chest. “And you know how I feel about the beard and the hair situation.” She raked her fingers through the hair at his temples. “Can’t get enough.”

He chuckled. “You’re sweet, but I’ve got a little more fat on me—”

“Hardly. Doesn’t count, you can still fit into the clothes you wore when we got married—”

“And for the record, you don’t look like you’ve had six kids.” He ran a hand over her bottom, making her shiver. “One or two, maybe. And yes, I think about it. I don't know why you're complaining about a few extra curves. You're still a skinny little thing.” 

She trembled, giggled a little breathlessly, as his free hand slid into her hair, tugging her head back to expose her neck. She arched her back and the hand in her hair moved down to support her back as she arched against him. He moved down, finding a nipple and wrapping his lips around it, suckling softly and making her gasp. 

“I think about it all the time. You were so beautiful when I met you, I didn’t think anything could be better. But then you had my babies, Anna.” She gasped against his lips as his fingers left her backside to find her clit. His lips were against her ear as he pulled her flush against him. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you let me make love to you and come in you and make babies in you, but you did. And every baby just made you more radiant. 

“You are more beautiful to me right now, in this moment, than you have ever been before, Anna, and I can see it, but I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that it’s even possible.” A sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a whine escaped her lips. He was driving her back upward, and suspended in his grasp, she felt like she was flying. “I want you to come now, Anna,” he murmured. 

“I want you inside me,” she said, her voice pleading. “Please, Kristoff, just like this.”

He could never, would never, deny her, and he shifted his hips slightly, finding the right angle, his hand pulling away and winding back into her hair. She held on tight as one sharp thrust of his hips had him sheathed inside her. She gasped, her head falling back. “Come, Anna. Come on, baby, come for me.”

The angle was just right, and she felt herself shuddering to her first orgasm. He murmured against her ear, prolonging the sensation with his words of how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. She felt herself babbling, unclear of what, if anything coherent, was coming out of her mouth. He chuckled at something she said, and his hips began to thrust more sharply against her.

She was still mumbling, hearing herself voicing her desire for him to grab her ass, moving down from her hair to grasp her firmly in his big, rough hand. She felt giddy as the hand on her back hooked onto her shoulder to give him more leverage. Deep inside, she could feel him starting to swell, and she knew he was close. He was still thrusting at that same beautiful angle, but now, he could pull her down to him harder, and the sensation was so, so perfect.

“Oh… God…. Yes…” Her words were articulated by his thrusts. “So… close…”

“Oh, yeah, Anna!” His voice was almost a snarl, his grunts of effort sounding animalistic in her ears. “Come on, sweetheart, do it for me. I’m almost there, baby, can you do it for me?”

“Harder,” she whispered, her voice failing as she reached the peak.

She wasn’t sure how, but he somehow managed to find more momentum to slam into her, and it was just enough. Anna wrapped her hands in his hair and held him against her as she cried out, his name mixing with a jumble of declarations of love and pleas for his own release. He shouted against her breast, freezing inside her as he shot into her in hot jets of his seed. Neither of them moved for a moment before he released her with a groan, collapsing back onto the pillows with her still astride him, his softening member still buried in her warm body. He was gasping, trying to catch his breath, but after a minute, when she had braced her hands on his chest, he dragged his arm from his face, grinning up at her. “How’d I do?”

“Great,” she giggled, wiggling her hips and making him groan. “I want more.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a few minutes.” He chuckled, eyes sparkling as he watched her movements. “I just need to lay here a minute. I can’t move my legs. Do you realize how many times I had to hoist those kids tonight?”

“Make you a deal,” she said, pulling herself off him. They detached with a filthy, wet sound. “I’ll suck your cock if you let me sit on your face.”

He regarded her for a split second before beckoning her forward with his hands. “Get up here, Mrs. Bjorgman.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years after coming to Arendelle, Julia receives some shocking news, and Elias reckons with some shocking feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally two chapters, but they didn't transition very well, so it turned into one big, long beast. Sorry, not sorry. Enjoy!

_Some Years Later_

Spring in Arendelle was absolutely beautiful.

Julia tossed back her head, letting the warm rays beat down on her face, half listening to Kristin chatter away as she drove. The two girls sat side by side in the front of the wagon as they trundled along the road north. In the back, Elias lounged next to several large baskets, munching on an apple, his long legs tossed carelessly over the side of the wagon. They were headed up to the ice grounds with lunch for the harvesters, and to deliver a message to Kristoff. Anna’s face had been unusually grave as she gave Elias instructions early that morning.

“I’d go myself, but with the pile on my desk and your father at work and this stupid ball—”

“It’s fine, Mama.” Elias’s low voice had interrupted his mother’s rambles. “It’s a nice day, maybe I’ll take Kristin and Jules.”

Kristin’s face had brightened at this idea. “And I can drive!”

Anna had pulled a face at this, looking back at her eldest. “Make sure she doesn’t drive too fast.”

So now, they were on their way with a sealed note, baskets of food, and another hour until they reached their destination. The air was just beginning to take on a bit of a chill, and she shivered lightly, despite the warmth of the sun.

Kristin appeared to have momentarily exhausted herself, and Julia saw Elias glance back at his now silent sister. He also seemed to notice Julia shiver again, and she watched as he rustled around in a smaller satchel.

“Here.” He handed up a warm green cloak to Julia, smiling slightly. “It gets cold up here.”

“I know that, Elias,” she retorted, rolling her eyes but smiling in thanks. “I’ve been here six years, and up this mountain quite a few times. I’ll have you remember I made it up that far once all on my own.”

“What was it like?” Kristin's voice was curious, her warm brown eyes turning to look at the girl she called her big sister.

“Cold.” Julia shuddered, wrapping the cloak around her a little tighter. “A little scary,” she admitted, and Elias laughed.

“I think you might be the bravest one of us all,” he commented. He relaxed back again, resting on a massive pile of blankets. “I’m not sure I could do that.”

“You could do it.”

“Nope.”

“Under the right circumstances,” Julia said, her voice a little hard now, “people are capable of anything.”

Elias and Kristin would know she spoke of her father, but they didn’t know much else. The pair had coaxed a few details here and there over the years, and Julia only let them slip because she knew they would say nothing to their parents. Truth be told, Julia was sometimes a little jealous of the pair, as they were as close as two siblings could be. If the twins could seem to read each other's minds with just a look, Elias and Kristin could do it from opposite wings of the castle. They were so similar in thought, if not always action, and kept each other’s secrets with a fierce protectiveness.

Julia commented on that now, a little desperate for a change of subject. When she told them of her trust for them, they both smiled. Kristin looked proud, even a bit smug; Elias looked shy and a bit embarrassed. She left out feeling jealous, and they both laughed when compared to the twins.

“I don’t know if we’re _that_ good,” Kristin said, smiling slightly. Her brown eyes, however, gave her away with their bright sparkles. “The twins have entire secret conversations that none of us know about.”

“Some of them violent,” Elias added.

Kristin pulled a face. “That last one…” She shook her head, refocusing her steady gaze on the road ahead. “Hand me my cloak, will you?”

“I’ve never heard Papa yell like that,” Elias responded, reaching down again to find his sister’s cloak, which matched Julia’s perfectly.

“It was terrifying. I knew it was going to be bad when Mama said, ‘Just you _wait_ until your father comes home!’” Kristin scrunched her face and raised the pitch of her voice in such a perfect imitation of her mother that Julia applauded.

“ _Brava!”_ She giggled, clapping her hands together. “You were just like her! You should be on the stage!”

“Oh, the stage,” Kristin moaned, sighing dramatically. “What an amazing life that would be!”

“Then go on the stage.” Elias’s voice held no hint of teasing. “You’d be a natural. Just react like you do to everything in life.”

Julia pressed her lips together to hide her smile as Kristin’s eyes narrowed and she said, “And _what,_ exactly, is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Elias cleared his throat, sat up straight, and made his eyes wide. “‘You’re both _dead!’”_ His voice, so high pitched that it nearly shocked Julia, mocked Kristin’s earlier shrieking at the twins, and Julia tried a little too late to hide a snort behind her hand.

Kristin tossed her braids and looked back at the road. “I do _not_ sound like that,” she said haughtily.

Elias looked to Julia for support, but she couldn’t speak. She knew the second she opened her mouth—

“Come on, Jules,” he begged, giving her his sweetest smile and biggest brown eyes. “Help me out.”

“You—” She snorted in a most undignified way. “Your voice—” The giggles she was stifling were threatening to come out in an unleashing torrent of laughter. “You sounded like an angry squirrel!”

Kristin found this hysterical, and her laughter triggered Julia’s. Within minutes, Julia had collapsed in the back with Elias, fists balled against her eyes as the boy scowled at her. Both girls had just managed to contain themselves when Elias, who had crammed his large body into the opposite corner of the sled, muttered, “It wasn’t that funny.”

This, of course, was met with further hysterics that lasted a good ten minutes before Julia simply ran out of energy to laugh. Kristin was still merry, and she started singing to herself as they traveled on. Julia eventually caught her breath and scooted closer to the frowning Elias.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not able to keep a smile from her face. “It’s just, your voice is so deep now, it didn’t sound like you at all! It _was_ funny, Elias, but we weren’t laughing at you.” 

“I was.” Kristin was only just composed, and her mirth was apparent. “That was hysterical.”

He crossed his arms and turned his gaze to the passing scenery, but she saw a softening in his eyes and face that she knew meant she was forgiven as she added, “You know, maybe go a little lower next time. Kristin’s only that squeaky when she’s super excited or really mad.”

“I am not!” Kristin sounded indignant again.

“Sometimes,” Julia reminded her. “Not all the time. I’m not talking about the level of excitement you get when you see a box of chocolates.” Her lips curled in a sly smile. “I’m talking ‘Prince Felix’ level.”

“Shut up!” Kristin’s voice immediately shot up to a pitch that, Elias commented, could probably only be heard by dogs, and could she _please_ repeat herself so he could hear that one more time. Kristin scowled as her brother now howled with laughter back at his sister, and Julia could only shrug helplessly.

“Come on, Kristin, you were just saying that he’s coming to Anna’s ball.” Julia managed to hoist herself, if a bit unladylike in her execution, up and over and back into her seat. Elias took her vacated spot again on the pile of blankets, and they began to settle back into more comfortable conversation.

Kristin rolled her eyes, but the tips of her ears began to redden. “I was only saying that, if you don’t want to dance with him, I will. I love dancing! And honestly, of all our neighbors, Prince Felix is probably the best dancer. I don’t know why _you_ wouldn’t want to dance with him.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Julia reminded her, dodging the last statement. “You’ve never actually met him.”

No, Julia throught wryly to herself, Kristin had never met Prince Felix of the Southern Isles. Neither of them had. Elias had, once, but it had been ages ago. She had never seen an image of him, and was sure he had never seen one of her, as such a thing had never existed prior to her becoming Julia Olsen, lost little orphan girl. But she had known his father many years ago.

That would change soon, and her stomach was in knots over it. The Westergaards of the Southern Isles seldom came here, and never since Julia had been here. Anna and Kristoff usually visited them, leaving the children in Elsa’s care. None of them ever said why, though her found siblings had never asked. Still, Julia knew.

Other than the ball, Julia wasn't sure why Ivor was so suddenly inclined to come now, after so many years. 

“Everybody says it,” Kristin said, her voice firm, reminding Julia that she needed to keep an ear on the conversation and not get too lost in her thoughts. Elias may not notice, but Kristin was sharp. Nothing ever escaped her. “And I’ve heard he’s quite the model of royalty. Polite, charmine, _genuine,”_ she added with extra emphasis, “and quite dashing. What’s not to like?”

“But he’s a _Westergaard,”_ Elias said, his voice barely concealing his contempt. “It’s not _if_ there’s something intolerable about him, it’s just a matter of _what.”_

A small pang hurt Julia’s heart. Elias rarely had a bad thing to say about anyone, except for the Westergaards. He didn’t trust them, didn’t trust any family that kept a prince, tried and convicted of attempted regicide (and against his much beloved godmother and aunt), in a castle with the royal family close.

It didn’t matter that he was infirm and not expected to live much longer.

Sooner, she hoped, rather than later. One less person walking this earth to concern her. From everything her father had ever said, he was the worst of the Westergaards.

What would Elias say if he knew the whole truth?

“So what if I tried to kill a king?” Julia interrupted Elias’s ranting, and he fell very quiet. “What would you think of me?”

“That’s different, Jules,” he said, his voice soft and cautious. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“But what if I did?”

“Or,” interjected Kristin, “what if _I_ did?” Elias was silent. “You know I could, if I wanted to. I can do anything. It’s just like Julia said, you never know what you can do until you have to.” Julia shifted, not wishing to incur any annoyance from either sibling. “And not that I would, you know, but I like to think I’m smart enough to know how to hide a body.” 

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got ice, rope, blankets, and a sleigh. I know where the deep lakes are.”

“Jesus, Kristin,” Julia said, but she had a hard time hiding her bemused smile. “Always so morbid.” The dark edge of her sense of humor, the one she shared with her father, tended to come out strongest when she was irritated, and it always, somehow, made Julia feel better.

It also wasn’t bragging, just a statement of fact. Kristin lacked mean bones in her body, but she was one of the most determined people Julia had ever met. 

Kristin had wanted to learn to drive a sleigh, so she learned to drive a sleigh. Then a wagon. Then she wanted to learn to actually harvest the ice, so Kristoff began taking her up to the fields from time to time to see. She wasn’t allowed by her protective father to do anything but pole the ice, but she loved every minute of it.

Kristin became tired of waiting for someone to dress her every day, so she began to dress herself. With Julia’s help, she learned how to do her own hair by thirteen, and now began every day attired precisely for what the day would bring, having the art of never having to change until dinner, sometimes even then, down to perfection.

Kristin was the only one of the children who could cook. Once, they had broken an axel on the way down the mountain, and Kristoff had declared that it was, while fixable, going to take a while. They’d been hungry, so Kristin had rifled through a basket of food. She’d produced some eggs and sausages, and Elias and Julia had watched in wonder as she lit a small fire just off the road, setting up a pan over it and frying up a quick meal. They’d eaten in amazement, a little bemused that Kristoff seemed unimpressed. She’d done it before, he said, no big surprise.

Now, she drove them, alone, up the mountain, as she had with her father so many times on this same route.

The pause that followed Julia's teasing was so long that she began to wonder if it would end, or if they would spend the last hour and a half in silence. Finally, Kristin spoke again.

“Well?” Kristin looked over her shoulder at her brother now, eyebrows raised over an otherwise neutral expression. “What _would_ you do? If it was a long time from now and you were the King of Arendelle, what would you do? Would you have me executed?”

“No!” Elias scowled, crossing his broad arms over his chest.

“Even if my motives were completely selfish?” Kristin had fully turned in her seat, managing to keep the horses pulling them going straight, more or less driving them behind her back.

“Of course not.” Elias frowned again and moved so he faced away from his sister.

“So how can you criticize someone for doing exactly that?” Elias didn’t answer. “That’s all King Ivor’s doing. Mama has said exactly that, that he just can’t bring himself to kill his little brother, however terrible of a person he may be. He has no titles, has no rights, and like you said, he’s probably dying, anyway. So what’s the big deal?” Kristin huffed softly as she turned back around. “Just leave them be. Mama does. Do you think she’s wrong?”

“Can you just stop, please?” Elias begged softly. Julia could see the genuine regret that Kristin couldn’t in his brown eyes, and he pleaded to her with them when his sister continued.

“Well, do you? She was there that day when—”

Squeezing her eyes closed for a brief moment, Julia interrupted. “That’s enough, Kristin.” Kristin’s mouth snapped closed like a trap. “It's not worth fighting over.” She tried to sound gentle, not wanting Kristin upset with her, as well. “You've both made your point, let's just talk about something else. It’s not worth the argument.”

“Okay.” Elias turned his gaze on Julia. “Let’s talk about why you so desperately don't want to dance.”

“Not fair.” Julia crossed her arms and scowled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kristin finally crack a smile. “I just…” She sighed, a quiet growl coming out with it. “I don't like forced conversation with people I don't know, and I'm not even that good at it.”

“That's a lie,” Elias tossed back easily. “You're an incredible dancer.”

“Shut up.” Julia felt herself blushing, for some odd reason. She’d been doing that more lately when Elias would compliment her as if it was nothing, and it was driving her crazy. It was _Elias,_ for heaven’s sake.

“It’s true! You don't step on my toes nearly as much as Kristin.” His head was lolled back now, gazing up at the sky with a dreamy expression on his face. Probably thinking about lunch.

“It's true,” Kristin said, voice solemn but a smile still pulling at the corners or her lips and eyes.

“I just don't like dancing with strange men I don't know,” Julia burst out. “And I hate it when they ask, because I have to come up with some stupid excuse not to, even though I do want to dance, just not with them!”

It was quiet for a minute, then, “So, I’ll dance with you.”

Kristin looked back at her brother, mouth slightly agape. “If Julia hates dancing, you _despise_ dancing.”

“Hate it, but good at it,” he amended, not shifting his gaze as he held up one finger for emphasis. “And I'd do it for Jules, if it gets her to stop making that face.”

“What face?” Julia worked to put it into a neutral look.

“That sad puppy dog face you make. It’s the worst.” He had finally finished the slow munch of his apple and he tossed the core well over the side and into the trees. “It breaks my soul.”

Kristin snorted. “‘Breaks your soul?’” she repeated.

“Yes.” Elias put a hand over his heart. “My soul, Kristin, and if yours doesn't break a little too, maybe you don't have a soul.”

Julia was now blushing furiously, and under the guise of the air becoming colder and chilling her, she pulled up her hood.

The subject shifted mercifully to food as they continued up, and by the time they had reached their destination, all three of them had talked themselves into a hunger. They found the men easily enough, and they waved as they made their way over.

“We brought lunch,” Kristin said as their father approached them, smiling, looking a bit confused, “and a message from Mama. She said it was important.”

While they ate with the men, Julia watched carefully as Kristoff read and reread the note, his brow furrowed slightly. He spoke briefly with Mattias, then the two men swapped out the horses for Sven and Kristoff declared he was coming back with them. The teenagers exchanged glances, but kept their thoughts to themselves as they packed back up, waved goodbye, and began the journey back.

It was a long time before anyone said anything, and it was Kristin who finally spoke. “Papa? Is everything okay?”

“Nothing to worry about, Princess,” he said, but he didn't sound like it was nothing. His voice sounded heavy, and he met his daughter’s accusatory look with a slightly resigned one. “Not for you to worry about, kid. It doesn't concern you.”

“Yes, it does. It does if you look like that.”

“Someday—”

“When I'm older,” Kristin interrupted with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“Sorry, honey.”

“Are _you_ going to dance at Mama’s ball?” she asked suddenly, and Julia giggled.

Kristoff blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Not much of a choice,” he said. “We're celebrating your mom’s birthday _and_ our anniversary, after all.”

“Even though you hate it?”

“I hate it, but I love your mom, so I'll do it for her.” He chuckled. “Your mother does love to dance. She just doesn't always get much of a chance.”

“I always think it’s so romantic when you steal her out of some really awful conversation with some really boring or tedious person. Especially because I know how gross you can get. Really, Dad, it’s a really revolting level of gross. Like, stinky gross.”

“Hey, you can be pretty gross yourself,” Kristoff fired back, and Elias and Julia settled in for a prolonged battle between father and daughter. “I may get stinkier, but your farts put mine to shame. You take after your mother. I never hear it, but all of a sudden—bam! There it is!”

“I love it when they get like this,” Elias whispered.

Julia grinned. “See, meant for the stage.”

The rest of the ride passed quickly, Kristoff bantering with his namesake while Elias and Julia giggled and whispered in the back. It was nice. Familiar. Comfortable.

Kristoff vanished the moment they arrived home, and Kristin yawned, saying she wanted a nap. Elias decided to go for a walk, and Julia, feeling the need to stretch after long hours in the wagon, went with him while Kristin shuffled away upstairs.

They walked side by side in comfortable silence for a while before she finally asked a question she'd been curious about all afternoon. “Do you think you can ever forgive the Westergaards,” she managed not to stumble over or emphasize her own name, “for what Hans did?”

Elias sighed. “Not the conversation I was expecting. I don't know. You clearly do. But you have to remember—” He stopped suddenly, mid sentence, cutting himself off.

“What?” Julia felt her brow furrow. “That it wasn't _my_ family that got hurt?”

Elias’s voice was quiet when he answered several yards of walking later. “He would have let my mom die, Julia.” Julia cast down her eyes. She couldn't argue with that, she supposed. “I don't understand how you _can.”_

“Because King Ivor isn't his brother. And you know if you were in that position, you couldn't let your brothers or sisters die. It's not fair to punish someone for the sins of another. And so what if Kristin wants to dance with Prince Felix? She likes to dance, apparently he does, and so what? It doesn't mean they're getting married.”

She gave him an accusatory look, and without thinking on what she was saying, continued, “Do you think _we’re_ getting married, just because you've agreed to dance with me?” She expected an eye roll, for him to make a joke, or to ignore her entirely. She certainly did not expect him to splutter, turn bright red from the tips of his ears and nose all the way down beneath his collar. He almost looked like he was choking. “Elias? Are you okay?”

“That’s ridiculous,” he stuttered out. He was so suddenly ruffled, it was so unlike him. “I could never do that!”

“Excuse me?” She glared over at him. “It was a joke, but now I’m just insulted.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Elias said in a rush. “I just meant—”

“What, that I’m not marriage material? Not pretty enough? What?” She couldn’t say why she felt so insulted, but she did. She felt the anger boil as it always did whenever the Westergaards came up in conversation, and she also found herself regretting ever bringing up Prince Felix.

She couldn’t help the misfortune she’d been born into anymore than he could help his good luck.

“No, it’s just—” He held his big hands out in front of him, like he was trying to find words in the air and grab hold. “You’re _Julia.”_

“Oh, of course.” She hefted her chin. “Just _Julia,_ poor little Julia from nowhere at all, poor little orphan Julia.” 

Elias’s eyes narrowed. “I did _not_ say that. That’s not fair, Jules.” He looked upset, but also confused.

“I know you’re thinking it,” she challenged, before turning on her heel and storming back toward the palace, Elias calling after her to stop. She had to get away, couldn’t let him see the lie in her eyes, but couldn’t let go of the argument yet, either. “Admit it, Elias, I’ve always just been poor Julia who had nowhere else on earth to go.”

His long strides caught up to her in no time. “That’s not true,” he insisted, his voice sounding a little angry now. “You’re as much a part of this family as I am, you know that.”

“Whatever you say.” Why was he angry with her? How dare he?

He grabbed her arm abruptly and pulled her to a stop. His grip wasn't painful, and he immediately let go once she had halted, but part of her wished his hand had remained.

What was _wrong_ with her today? This was Elias!

“First of all, you’re not an orphan, and we both know that, so you can drop that right now. Second, you are marriage material, and third, not pretty enough? Why do you think all those men want to dance with you? Because you look like something they scraped off their shoe on the way in? Your last name is Olsen, but it might as well be Bjorgman. _That’s_ what they want. That’s why you won’t dance with them. It’s _because_ you’re marriage material. We’re eighteen. People look at us differently than they used to, and those men look at you because you’re perfect!”

Julia blinked rapidly at this, confused again. “Perfect?”

Elias sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not very ladylike, and I can be less than polite at times. I don’t like fancy balls and I still feel weird in a ballgown. I’m far from perfect.”

“But they don’t know that.” Elias blinked as she began to open her mouth to shoot back some sharp retort, but he heard himself and waved his hands. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, throw you in the ballgown in question, and you’d never know that’s who you really are. You may feel weird in a ballgown,” he continued, “but you don’t act like it. Or look like it. You seem…” He stammered for a moment, trying to come up with the right words. “You’re a natural. They just don’t know you. They don’t know there’s so much more to you than that.”

“So what you’re saying,” Julia said slowly, her brain churning with the ramifications of his outburst, “is that I’m weird in a ballgown but I don’t show it, and that the best thing about me is that I’m unladylike?”

“No!” Elias bunched his hands into fists. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore. I’m just…” He trailed off, glaring downward at his boots before suddenly storming off. She watched him go, feeling more confused than ever.

* * *

Upstairs, Elias stormed to his room, past a very confused Sara, slamming his door in her face.

“Rude!” she called through the door, and he heard her little footsteps marching off, her own door slamming closed.

He had to do something. He needed to do something, anything, to keep his hands busy.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the hell is wrong with you?_

He sat down in the corner at the chess board, staring at it as he tried to find a good move. He’d been working for two days at getting Kristin, but he hadn’t yet found the move that would keep her from boxing him more finally into the unfortunate corner where his pieces were.

_Stop thinking about it, don’t think about it, it’s stupid._

Giving up, he crossed to the dressing room. He peeked inside quickly, making sure Axel was nowhere in sight, as the room was shared by both boys. He located his suit, the one he was to wear in two nights, the one he least enjoyed because it fit tight where he wanted it to be loose, but he wanted to be sure it was perfect and ready to go, especially since he had made such an enormous ass out of himself downstairs.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He had managed to keep busy for a while, first with his suit, then with a bit of woodworking, finally moving a chess piece in the game, when there was eventually a knock on his door. “It’s me, and I’m coming in.” Kristin opened the door, a frown etched onto her face, and he sighed. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know.” Elias couldn’t lie to his sister and he buried his face in his hands. “Stupid vomiting words, I didn’t even think about what I was saying!”

“What _were_ you saying?” Kristin sat down around the other side of the table. She surveyed the board, shaking her head. “Oh, Elias,” she sighed, reaching forward to move one of her pieces. “Check. What is wrong with you lately? Half the time, you’re daydreaming about something, and you don’t hear a word I say!”

“First of all, I’m not daydreaming. I’m thinking. Second, you say a hundred words a minute. How am I supposed to keep up with that?”

“I’m not joking, Elias, Julia’s really upset.” Kristin watched as he moved a piece into another position to block her check. “Whatever you said, it really made her mad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that mad. I woke up when she got back and slammed the door, saying you said she’s not marriage material, then going on to knit half a scarf. I think she’ll be done by dinnertime. Why would you say something like that? And I ask again,” she repeated, rolling her eyes, “what is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t marriage material, just that she wasn’t marriage material to me!”

“To you?” His sister’s blonde eyebrows shot up into her bangs. “Why would—check—why would you think she’d want to marry _you?_ Wait, no, that sounded mean.”

“See?”

“No, I just mean, who said anything about you marrying Julia?”

“Well, she just…” Elias sighed and stared at the board for a moment, trying to find a next move and the right words. He moved, then spoke. “She just made a joke that I took too seriously. It was stupid.”

“Well, you better tell her that,” Kristin said, eyes darting around the board. “She thinks you hate her. And be honest, I’m not saying you hate her at all, but you’ve never really treated her like a sister.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is! Check. Come on, Elias, stop being ridiculous. You’re always way nicer to Julia than you are to me, or even Anita.”

“But not Sara?”

“Sara’s out there huffing that you slammed a door in her face to anyone who will listen. Let’s face it, brother, if there’s one chocolate left in the box and it’s you against Sara, you’ll eat that last piece of chocolate. If it’s Julia, you push her the box and tell her it’s all hers. Admit it, you’ve had some level of a crush on her since she got here.”

“I have not!” Another move.

“Have too. Checkmate.” Kristin crossed her arms and grinned. “I win. I’m right, you’re wrong.”

Elias crossed his arms, scowling. Now that it was quiet, he could indeed hear Sara complaining to Axel and Oskar that Elias was being mean. The muffled voices of their siblings, of Oskar’s gentle placations and Axel’s positive glee, were soon joined by their father, and Elias groaned.

“Great,” he muttered. “Here, help me reset this.”

There was a short knock, then the door opened. Their father, looking tired, stepped into the room. Brother and sister continued resetting the chess board, greeting him casually.

Kristoff scrubbed at his forehead before asking, “Elias, why is your sister telling me you slammed a door in her face?”

“Because I did.” He gave his father a sheepish smile. 

“Why,” Kristoff asked, voice exasperated, _“why,_ in God’s name, would you do that?”

Elias grimaced. The exasperation was almost worse than disappointment. “I didn’t want to talk to her, and you know how Sara can be. I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll apologize.”

“And why did she say you looked angry?”

“I got him all riled up earlier,” Kristin filled in easily. “You know sometimes it’s hard to just let an argument drop.”

“Fine, just don’t take it out on your little sister.” Kristoff sighed. “I’ve got enough to worry about without Sara’s list of grievances. Go apologize, you can finish that after dinner.” He nodded at the chessboard. “Who won?”

“I did.” Kristin’s tone made it clear the game wasn’t all she had won.

“Good girl. Hurry up, go get ready for dinner. You both need to wash up and change.”

* * *

Anna had wanted to rush up as soon as Kristoff told her about overhearing some kind of argument between Elias and Julia, the two pieces of news she’d received that day compelling her down hallways. 

The hallway with doors that opened into the rooms of their children was mercifully quiet. Sara’s door was slightly ajar, meaning she’d already disappeared somewhere, as was Oskar’s. He could hear Anita in Axel’s room, the two engaged in what sounded like a card game. Elias’s room was silent, the door tightly closed.

Finally, Kristoff and Anna stood in front of Julia and Kristin’s door. Kristoff could hear the girls talking in hushed voices, nothing discernable, and on knocking, the voices hushed.

“Just a minute!” There was a pause, then quick footsteps followed by the appearance of Kristin in the door. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked excited about something, much as she had earlier that evening. “Hello, Papa!”

“Kristin, can you go downstairs and make sure Olaf hasn’t gotten into anything yet?” Anna laughed lightly. “He was eyeing the desert tray a little earlier, and you know how he gets with sugar.”

“Yes, Mama.” Their blonde haired daughter, now taller than her mother, smiled sweetly and kissed Anna’s cheek, then Kristoff’s, then headed down the hall, calling out, “I’m coming down, Olaf! You better not be up to any kind of mischief without me!” Then she laughed and disappeared down the banister.

Julia smiled as she smoothed her dress. “You know she’ll be the one reorganizing the deserts so it looks like she didn’t eat any.”

“Oh, of course, I’m counting on it.” Anna smiled as brightly as she could, but Kristoff could see that she was having difficulty. “We actually wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. We can go down after, if you want.”

Julia frowned slightly, taking a deep breath and letting it out as they stepped inside, closing the door behind them. “That message you sent today,” she said quietly. “The letter this morning. They have to do with me, don’t they?”

Kristoff squeezed his wife’s hand. She looked up at him pleadingly. He took a deep breath, and spoke for her. “Julia, honey, why don’t you sit down?”

Julia had frozen in place, her expression relatively unchanged, but the slightest firming of the set of her shoulders and the angle of her chin made Kristoff sure she knew bad news was coming.

“I would rather stand, thank you, sir.”

Suddenly, the girl became the one only he and Anna ever saw. Though she was amazingly adept at shrugging herself shorter and more docile looking, Julia was fully capable of straightening and narrowing, becoming Princess Julia in an instant. After six years, Kristoff knew it was a defense mechanism for her, and it wasn’t usually a good thing. She was hardening, closing off, sharpening, suspicious.

She was putting on the airs of Julia Westergaard.

“Come on, Jules, don’t make this harder than it already is.” Kristoff held his hands out in front of him, pleading.

“So tell me. I can take it. I’m eighteen now, after all.” She hadn’t budged from her regal pose, shoulders back and chin hoisted. She wasn’t that much taller than Anna, but she’d grown like a weed the past few years. Still, she would always be shorter than him, but with the impressive ability to look down her nose at anyone.

Kristoff swallowed. “Julia, it’s your father.”

Julia inhaled sharply and her shoulders sagged slightly. “He’s not coming here, is he?”

“Julia, he’s dead.” Kristoff tried to gauge her reaction. Her expression froze, but she blinked several times. “He died a month ago, but it’s only coming out now. They tried to keep it quiet, as he was in a massive amount of debt when he died, but—”

“How?” Julia’s green eyes were almost blank, but for a glimmer of something he couldn’t identify.

“How, what?”

Slowly, Julia sat down on the edge of her bed, folding her hands carefully in her lap as she stared ahead, not making eye contact with either of them. She took a small breath, blinked slowly, and asked, “How did he die?”

Kristoff glanced at Anna, and Anna held out the letter. “They said it was a brain fever. It was sudden.”

“You were saying he was in debt.” Julia still looked blank, but her eyes darted off to a corner then back to Anna’s feet so quickly that he almost thought he’d imagined it. His mind flashed back to a story she’d once told them of hiding in the corner from her father while he ranted about the expense of such a useless thing as a daughter.

It had boiled Kristoff’s blood.

“So in debt, that when their neighbors found out, they absorbed the kingdom into Corona. They owed so much gold that even inheriting the castle, its contents, and port weren’t enough to cover it.” Anna shook her head. “In any case, at least it’s Corona. They’re not at all unkind. I’ve got cousins there, actually.”

Silently, Julia considered for a long moment, and Kristoff exchanged a look with his wife. Silent understanding passed between them, and they waited for her to speak. They knew Julia now as well as they knew their own children. While she fit in better than they could have ever hoped, Julia was still different. While she didn’t remind Kristoff in the least of Benjamin, she did remind him strongly of Ivor. She could be withdrawn at times in silent contemplation, careful with the words she would use.

Finally, she asked quietly, almost as if she were afraid of the answer, “And… my brother and sisters? My mother?”

Anna took a sharp breath, letting it back out quickly. “Your sisters are all gone, married off. None are close by, unfortunately, but I’m sure you could write, if you wanted. Your brother is apparently unwell, and has been settled somewhere comfortable by the royal family. He’s not expected to live much longer, himself.”

Julia frowned. She didn’t remember her brother as ill, at all. “What’s the matter with him?”

Kristoff, who had been rereading the letter over Anna’s shoulder, spoke this time. “Seems he’s picked up vices from both parents. Too much drink, too much time spent in opium dens and filling himself with God knows what else. It weakened him, and when he became ill last year, he never recovered.”

“And my mother,” Julia asked quietly. “Is _she_ dead?”

Anna bit her lip. “Sanitarium. She was,” she said softly, lifting the letter again to read it, “‘a danger to herself and others, and was taken away from her son on my arrival.’”

“Oh.” Julia frowned down at her neatly folded hands. “Was it King Ivor who wrote you?”

“Yes.” Anna smiled, and Kristoff recalled the short passage that brought the expression onto her face. “He also said, ‘I pass on my well wishes to your family; warm greetings to your husband and children, and affection for that one whom we both find so dear.’”

Kristoff waited for tears, for anger, relief, anything. But all Julia said was, “Then, who am I?”  
  


Anna and Kristoff looked at each other. They crossed the room together, sitting down on either side of the teenage girl, the secret Westergaard Princess. “What do you mean, honey?” Anna took one of Julia’s hands. “You’re part of this family.”

“But I have no name, other than the one I made up, and my birth family is scattered to the winds, and no one even knows I exist—”

“We know,” Kristoff interrupted. “And Mattias, and your Uncle Ivor and Elsa, and we all care about you. All we have ever wanted for you was to grow up in safety and happiness. Your father…” He grit his teeth before continuing, “Your father was not a good man, to use your words. Your name isn’t what matters. Your happiness is.”

“I just…” Julia sighed heavily, staring off toward the fire. “I suppose I’ve always thought that I could fall back on it if I absolutely had to. Now I don’t even have that. I really am an orphan from nowhere, nobody at all…” She didn’t cry; in fact, she spoke very directly. She just seemed to be having a hard time with full comprehension of her own words.

“You are not nobody, and you are not from nowhere.” Kristoff’s voice was firm now. “You are Julia, and you are of Arendelle just as much as Bergland or the Southern Isles. You’re as much Bjorgman as Westergaard. If it means that much to you, we can file paperwork to change your name.”

He thought of Anna bringing him the sheaves of paper some years back, how they’d put them in his desk in case they ever needed them.

At this, Julia blinked. “You can?”

“Well, of course sweetheart,” Anna said, giving her husband an exasperated look, “but we don’t need to decide that right now. How are you feeling right now?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice was soft, and Kristoff was reminded of the little girl he’d met almost six years ago, shivering on the edge of the woods. “Is it bad if I feel a little relieved?”

“Not at all.” Kristoff made his voice reassuring. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Julia looked thoughtfully at him for a long minute. “He’s not my _real_ father anyway,” she said lightly, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, then to Anna’s. “And my mother is _not_ in a sanitarium, she sits on a throne.” Then she was out the door as if nothing had happened.

“Did she just—”

“She just said—”

They spoke at the same time, stopped together, then laughed together, Anna finally dissolving into tears, Kristoff barely containing his. 

Anyone who had seen the royal family all together knew that Julia was regarded as much more than just some orphan, a ward they’d taken on. For years, they’d been the ones to comfort Julia when she’d cried, to guide her through her trauma and remind her that she was safely surrounded and loved by all who knew her in Arendelle.

It had been Kristin who had begged that Julia share her room after only a few months. They were the only children to share a room, but Kristoff knew they both preferred it that way. Kristin had made it her mission to make Julia’s life happier, and in the six years the girls had shared their space, Julia had gradually relaxed and learned to trust the family that had taken her in.

It had taken a few more years, but she finally found enough trust for them when she had quietly and shyly hugged each of them goodnight one Christmas Eve with a soft, “I love you,” murmured to each. It had been clear that the words were foreign to the girl, that she did not speak them often, if ever. 

Gradually, she’d said them more and more, with increasing ease and frequency. She said it to Kristin, to the twins, to Oskar and Sara, and eventually, even Elias, though it made him blush and she didn’t say it often. They’d wondered at it off and on over the years, but nothing ever came of it, even though Kristoff was certain Elias had always been sweet on the rust-haired girl.

Still, Kristin was the only one Kristoff could ever remember Julia directly calling her “sister.” It was only when it was just the family, usually with some jest, but the girls had become sisters. More than once, he’d caught them, pinkies linked as they skipped down halls, hid in corners at balls, and whispered in the library, giggling softly.

She had certainly never called Kristoff and Anna her parents, and the significance of her saying it now wasn’t lost on them.

“I just always wanted her to be happy,” Anna managed to choke out, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “It’s just not fair. Nothing about her life was ever fair, and…” 

“I know.” Kristoff swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. “And she is happy. Clearly,” he laughed.

“I just…” Anna sobbed into his shoulder, and he rubbed at her back, trying to keep from getting too concerned. It had been a while since she’d had a good cry, and she was due, but this was so sudden.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, propping his chin on top of her head as she burrowed into him.

“I know!” Anna laughed through her tears. “I’m just so happy.”

Elias eventually appeared, looking concerned. 

“Nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Anna said, dabbing her happy tears from her eyes. “Everything is great.” She rose from the bed, wrapping Elias in what looked like a bone crushing hug, judging by how his son winced. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

“Oh, I know,” she sniffled, then headed off toward Axel and Anita’s room.

“Is Mama okay?” Elias whispered as she began corralling the rest of the children, sending them downstairs.

“Oh, you know your mother,” Kristoff said, smiling. “Loves a good cry. Happy, sad, angry, overwhelmed, you name it, she loves herself a good, ugly cry. Now,” he said, changing the subject, “any idea what the girls would have been whispering about tonight?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” 

But Elias’s ears began to turn red, and Kristoff knew when his son was lying. He’d heard Elias and Julia’s raised voices earlier, which was highly unusual, but by the time he’d gotten close enough, Elias had stormed off, leaving a perplexed Julia in his wake. Kristoff had said nothing, slipping quietly back the way he came, and kept it to himself. Elias would tell him in due time.

Or, so he’d thought. Apparently, his children had reached the age where they were starting to keep things, little things, to themselves.

“Oh, yes you could. At least tell me if it’s anything I need to worry about, something I’m going to have to deal with down the line.”

“I doubt it’s that bad.” The red began to ebb now as Elias got back under control. “Just some stupid girl thing, I’m pretty sure. Kristin’s got a thing for that Prince Felix.”

Ah, Felix. Ivor’s second born, the spare, who seemed to have absolutely no interest in any aspect of the throne. He was happier off on adventures, and had excitedly offered to show Kristoff a good fishing spot the last time they’d visited. “Nice kid. Knows his way around a fly rod.”

“Seriously?” Elias looked almost a little wounded.

“He’s a nice kid, and he’s second in line for the throne. Really, your sister could do a lot worse.”

“She could do better. He's _too_ charming.” Elias’s voice dripped with disdain. He would seldom come out and speak directly against the Westergaards, at least to his parents, but he was an expert at finding things not to like about them. Kristoff knew Julia noticed more than once, when Elias would speak ill of Ivor or his brothers, and Julia’s eyes would dart toward him then down to her shoes.

Beyond that, as much as none of them had initially liked the idea, the Southern Isles were their close neighbors and had a much larger navy, should such an ally be needed. Ivor had always been fair, not only to them, but to other neighbors, as well. He seemed to have a better ability than his father had to keep his family affairs in order, and several brothers were relocated, as Benjamin had been, while others had been put to work in their armed forces.

It was all cemented when there had been a threat to Arendelle ten years ago, one Anna had worried their small army wasn’t ready for. To everyone’s surprise, the first to arrive a week later had been a large fleet, sent by Ivor and led by his brother, Simon. Simon, a roguish man who fell somewhere near the center of the lineup of brothers, loved the sea and hated his younger brother. The sight of the fleet, led by a laughing man hanging from a rigging and pointing toward the opposing fleet, had been enough to scare off their attackers. 

Since then, the idea of the Westergaards being friends and neighbors was much less alien. Kristin possibly forging at least a friendship with one of them could be only viewed as a positive, and Elias, as the Crown Prince of Arendelle and Anna’s heir, needed to understand that.

Kristoff narrowed his eyes at his son now. “Be nice, Elias. These are some of our closest neighbors. We might need them someday. _You_ might need them someday.”

Kristoff didn’t like reminding Elias that one day, Anna would die from extreme old age, and a slightly younger Elias would become King of Arendelle. Really, it wasn’t needed. Elias was generally pretty even keeled, seeing all sides evenly, but no one was perfect, and when Elias had opinions, they tended to be strong and one sided.

His continued distrust of their neighbors had started when Elias had been very young. They had visited their neighbors with their son, leaving their infant daughter at home. Elias had come back convinced that all Westergaards were trouble. Kristoff had never been able to convince him otherwise, and Elias would never breathe a word of what happened to anyone, even Kristin.

He didn’t need anyone to argue, Elias would insist. He knew what scum a Westergaard could be.

With this reminder, Elias became quiet. Finally, he stopped, watched his mother and siblings depart for a moment, before whispering, “What if I can’t?”

“Then you have to fake it. It’s not about you. It’s about the thousands of people who will be looking to you as a leader. You have to leave your personal feelings at the door.”

“Can you do that?”

“If I have to, yes!” Kristoff sighed. “Look, I’m not that crazy about them, either, but the thing is, you can’t deny that King Ivor is actually a good man. Maybe he’s not the best, maybe not the smartest or wisest, but he’s a good person. He has good intentions. He tries. And someday, I believe Felix will be the same kind of man. Your sister could actually do a lot of good in a situation like that. Everyone loves her. I wouldn’t be surprised if Felix felt the same way, and Ivor’s made some implications—”

“Dad!” Elias took a step back, his voice rising in the empty hallway. “Does Kristin know that?”

Kristoff didn’t want to admit that he _hated_ that he knew the answer to that question when his son so clearly didn’t. He hated politics in general, but over twenty years, he’d seen the inside of the clock and knew how the gears needed to work. Marriages often formed alliances, and while they and Anna’s parents had been something of an exception, even those had been used to advantage. Kristoff would never have imagined that he would someday be in full command of Arendelle’s ice trade, or that he would have children who could marry to solidify alliances with foreign countries. He didn’t expect all of his children to follow suit, but it couldn’t surprise him at this point that at least one would.

Letters had been exchanged between Ivor and Anna for years on various topics, and it was only natural that the topic had been broached by Ivor more than once. Anna wasn’t opposed to the idea. She liked Felix, she’d written back, but ultimately the decision was Kristin’s. Anna would give her no instructions on who she should marry, and certainly wouldn’t advise her to marry a man she’d yet to lay eyes on, but she wasn’t completely averse to steering her in an advantageous direction, if the situation proved amenable. 

Anna, who hated lying and secrets and wanted no more than was necessary, showed every letter to Kristin. The teenage girl had read them with a serious face, nodding when Anna and Kristoff had explained that while it didn’t mean she _had_ to, the offer was there, if she were interested.

Felix was far from the worst thing that could happen to Kristin. He was nice enough, seemed to have matching interests to Kristin, and most of all, never once gave any impression that he held any resemblance, other than his looks, to his uncle. Kristoff had seen the boy’s hackles raise more than once at the mention of Hans, and Ivor had once kicked Felix under the table during dinner when the subject had strayed to Felix’s true feelings.

“Of course she does. She’s sixteen. By all standards, if she wanted to, she would be old enough to ask to get married. And as much of a tomboy as she can be, you know your sister wants that big, fairytale wedding.”

“If she knows, why didn’t she say?” Elias sounded like his feelings had been deeply hurt.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows. It was interesting that Kristin never _had_ said anything to Elias. The two rarely withheld information from each other. “Is this what you were fighting about? Come on, if we don’t hurry up, your mother’s coming back here.”

“Fine. And maybe this is what we were fighting about, but not exactly, but I didn’t realize there had been overtures! I thought she just wanted to dance with the guy because he’s some amazing dancer.”

“And where do you think she got _that_ information?” Kristoff raised his eyebrows.

Elias blinked. “Mama. Prince Ivor writes to her every couple of months.” Then, he scowled. “I can’t _believe_ Kristin wouldn’t tell me that!”

Kristoff rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re taking it so well, son, I can’t believe it, either.”

“You know what I mean.” They were quiet until they arrived just outside the dining room. Elias finally muttered, “He’s too old for her, anyway.”

“She’s sixteen, he’s nineteen. That’s the same age difference as your mother and I.”

It was like he just couldn’t help himself when Elias tossed out, “He’s older than me.”

“Most people are, son. Now, shut the hell up, before your mother hears you and gets on both of us.”

Dinner was oddly quiet. Elias seemed preoccupied, apologizing first to Sara, saying it wasn't nice of him to slam the door in her face, and that he loved her. Then, after a sizable gulp of water, he turned down the table to Julia.

“I'm sorry, Julia.”

Julia raised her eyebrows, but her gaze stayed on her food. “It’s fine, Elias. I’m sorry, too.”

“Elias, what did you do?” Axel sounded equal parts shocked and impressed that the normally passive Elias had managed to offend twice in one night. 

“It doesn't matter,” Julia answered for him, and Kristoff glanced down the table, catching Anna’s eye. She was looking confusedly between her children. 

“I'm sorry, too, Elias,” Kristin piped up.

“You should be,” he blurted out, then he shook his head. “Sorry.”

Anna slammed her hands down on the table, finally at her boiling point, exhausted from long days of party planning and diplomacy. The silverware rattled, and everyone fell silent, eyes glued on the now scowling Queen. “Oh, for heaven's sake, what is going on with you all tonight?”

There was a pause. Then, from Anna’s side, Oskar piped up, “It's probably me. I don't know about them, but I know I’m excited for tomorrow. Sorry if I'm being too loud.” It was the first time he’d spoken since sitting down and when he smiled in his all knowing way, Anna rolled her eyes.

“Thank God for you,” she sighed, ruffling his white blonde hair. She turned to the eldest three again. “I expect if it's anything of consequence, you’ll tell your father or myself before bed, understood? Otherwise, let bygones be bygones, because I have two hundred people showing up here starting first thing in the morning, and I need you all on your best behavior, understood? None of this being all surly when people are coming from all over to visit.”

She was met with a chorus of “Yes, ma’am,” and “Yes, Mama,” from all three, and she sighed, picking up her fork again.

Kristoff glanced toward his son, a silent look and an understanding in his eyes, and Elias nodded, returning to focusing very hard on his dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Kristoff throw a party and Elias gains some perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for drinking, verbal abuse, implications of sexy times.

Anna felt like her eyes were crossing. After so many years as queen, she had no problem remembering all the names, but she couldn't recall a time so many had come at once. 

Their twentieth anniversary had come, as it always did, in the dead of winter, celebrated, as it always was, alongside the New Year and with bonfires in the streets. Normally, they would have invited a few neighbors, but she’d wanted something special this year. Inviting everyone in the freezing cold from all over could go badly, so they’d settled on celebrating their anniversary and her birthday in May, rather than January or June. Arendelle was in the peak of spring bloom, visitors oohing and aahing over the gardens, enjoying the long twilights and remains of the dancing lights.

There were toasts, handshakes, visiting royalty, and so many diplomats. Dinner seemed to last an eternity, and Anna was already wondering if she should have heeded Kristoff’s raised eyebrows when she’d first suggested this plan back in November.

By the time dancing began, Anna was starting to wonder if she would ever get a moment to breathe and collect herself. But Kristoff, hair swept back out of his face and looking particularly distinguished with his epaulets and medals, took her hand and led her out to start. It was a waltz, and though he disliked so many dances over the years, he'd become quite the master at this one, one they both loved because of how closely he was required to hold her. She held tight now to his hand as he swept her around as though she were weightless.

“I'm going to die here,” she murmured around a forced smile.

His smile was equally strained as he replied, “How about we kill each other?”

“Then what would the kids do?”

“I can trip you and we can both fall. We'd be out of commission for  _ days _ .” He looked a little wistful at the prospect.

“Elias can get some practice running the country. Where is he, anyway?”

Kristoff glanced around. “Last I saw he was sulking in some corner.”

Elias had been grumpy all evening, ever since their neighbors arrived. King Ivor had been especially cordial on meeting the family, not giving any indication, other than perhaps a slightly longer handshake, that he knew Julia, and Anna had seen the girl's shoulders sag with relief.

A widower now, he brought with him his oldest two sons. The oldest, Leopold, was a good looking young man, clearly interested in discussing politics and trade. He had many of his father’s looks, but his eyes were blue and his features not quite so sharp. He followed his father for most of the evening, shaking hands and talking to anyone his father addressed.

Felix looked more similar to his uncle than even his father, having grown taller since the last time Anna had seen him, and he was just as charming as she recalled. He looked unsettlingly similar to Hans, but Anna could see the warmth in his green eyes that she realized, in retrospect, Hans had always seemed to lack. From the first shake of a hand, he seemed only to have eyes for Kristin. He only somewhat paid attention to what his father and brother were saying, and as soon as the floor was open, she saw the two of them, chattering away about something, take to dancing. 

Anna finally located her son, back turned, hands clasped behind him, as he seemed to very carefully study the chocolate table. She could see the tension in his broad shoulders, and she sighed wearily. 

“Do you ever think we should tell him the truth? Maybe he'd be a little nicer if he knew Ivor put his niece in the best position for her, even though that meant someone else taking her in.”

“Or maybe he'd say Ivor is too cold to care about what happens to her. Who knows.” Kristoff shrugged, spinning her around, not missing a single step. “The only person who could convince him is Julia.”

“But maybe now her father is dead—”

“Or maybe not,” Kristoff interrupted. “Now that he’s dead, she may not want to ever bother bringing it up. We do need to talk to her about it once the dust settles. There was no money left, according to Mattias, so she'll need a dowry.”

“Why are we talking about a dowry when we don't even know if she has any interested suitors yet?”

“Oh, come on,” Kristoff said, rolling his eyes. “The parade is already starting, look.”

Across the room, several young men were standing nearby, eyeing Julia as she stood, fanning herself and looking dreadfully bored, and a little apprehensive. Then, to the surprise of Queen and Consort, as one of the young men finally got brave enough to take a step forward, Elias appeared at her side. He said something that couldn't be heard over the music, then gestured to the floor. Anna’s mouth hung open.

“Is he actually going to dance?” She watched, shocked, as Julia nodded, looking relieved, and her son escorted their ward for the next dance, another waltz. “He hates dancing.”

“But he'd do anything to keep Julia happy.” Kristoff chuckled as he maneuvered his wife around the floor. “He's been sweet on her since she got here.”

“Don’t even joke, Kristoff,” Anna warned. “That would be so perfect, and  _ way _ too easy for either of them. And talk about not needing a dowry,” she teased.

“I’m not joking. To be honest, I’m not sure how nobody’s noticed. Except Kristin. Nothing gets by that girl. I asked her about it once and she said Elias has never said a word about it to her, that she's not even sure he realizes it.”

“Hasn’t she ever asked him?” Anna cocked her head curiously.

“They’re not telling each other everything anymore,” he informed her, watching as her eyebrows shot up. “She didn’t say anything to him about Felix. I ended up putting my foot in my mouth last night.”

“Good job, honey.” Anna rolled her eyes, then sighed softly, a little heartbreak seeping into her features. “They’re growing up.”

“Well, if neither one of them notices, maybe we’ll just have to help them along.” He sounded thoughtful, and she wondered how much consideration he’d actually put into it.

So, she asked. “How are you planning on doing that?”

“Well,” he said, blinking at what he seemed to have thought would have been a question with an obvious answer, “Kristin. Just, you know, have her give him a nudge. Or a swift kick to the ass. Whichever is more effective.”

Anna grinned. “So you're conspiring with the children against the children?”

Kristoff’s eyebrows raised at her giggle. “No, just voicing highly evidenced theories. Quietly. With dignity.”

Anna snorted. “You and Kristin together are about as dignified as a horse’s ass, honey.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice haughty but teasing, “but we are royalty. We can be dignified when the occasion calls for it.”

“Royalty who have come back, on more than one occasion, smelling like Sven, sweat, and God knows what else.”

“You love it.” He leaned down, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek, despite the crowd, then winked.

Anna laughed again, and he kissed her fingers gently before spinning her into the next step of their dance.

The song came to an end and Anna groaned. “I have to dance with that Russian count, now,” she groaned.

“Don’t forget, for every stuffy dignitary, I get their wives.” Kristoff shuddered and Anna laughed. “This one gets a little fresh when she’s drunk, and I’m pretty sure she’s had more than enough wine for the evening.”

“Just so long as you remember who you’re going home with tonight,” she reminded him, eyes sparkling.

“I promise,” he said softly, bringing her gloved fingers up for a kiss, honey eyes gazing intently into hers, “not to forget all the things I want to do to you later. As long as you stay awake, anyway.”

“Oh, I’ll stay awake.”

“Oh, you’ll probably fall asleep. During, if not before.”

She giggled. “That’s terrible. You’re horrible. Go dance with that woman.”

* * *

Across the dance floor, Elias kept a tight hold on Julia as the waltz came to an end. “Do you want to sit down?”

Julia grimaced. “If I sit down, they’ll descend. If I stay here, they can’t see my empty dance card.”

“If we stay too long, people will start to talk.” They’d start to talk, his ears would burn with embarrassment, she’d know.

Hell,  _ he _ didn’t even know until yesterday. Not really, anyway. Stupid Kristin. Kristin, who saw everything and apparently kept secrets from him.

Stupid Kristin, dancing with her stupid prince. They were going on their third dance after this, and he wondered vaguely if she’d go so far as to only dance with him. Maybe she would, and it would take the focus of him dancing with Julia.

But when he caught his mother’s eyes, smiling cheerily at him and waving, he knew he wasn’t going to get off that easy.

“Come on, Elias, it’s a polka. At least a polka’s fun!”

“Fine, one more. Then we’ll have to figure out somewhere to hide for a while—”

“And then, can we dance more?” She grinned as they hopped and spun through the lively steps. “I’m having so much fun! I don’t have to make conversation with you or anything!” Elias raised his eyebrows, and she gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I meant.”

“See?” he teased. “It’s not so easy, getting all those words to cooperate until they’re in sentences that make sense.”

“Shut up.” But she was smiling, laughing a little. “You don’t seem to be having such a terrible time yourself, now you’re dancing. You’re not  _ quite _ so cranky.”

“I have to focus on not stepping on you instead of where Felix Westergaard puts his hands.”

“His hands,” Julia reported, watching over Elias’s shoulder, “are exactly where they ought to be. Wow, he’s a very good dancer!”

“Focus, Julia,” Elias reminded her, dodging slightly. “You almost caught me in the face. You’re supposed to be good at this, remember?”

“I was distracted!”

“You know, someday, you’re going to have to dance with one of these losers.” He kept his voice quiet, not wishing to be overheard. “You’ll have to marry one.”

“I will not.” Julia smiled. “I’ll stay here and be the crazy maiden aunt before I marry some stranger. You know,” she commented, as the polka started to come to an end, “you weren’t kidding. I never noticed before, but you’re a really good dancer!”

“Told you.” He shrugged. He’d had to learn, just like his siblings, and watching his mother use the dance portion of a ball to close deals had never ceased to fascinate him. “Not cocky, it’s just true.”

“How did you get so good at it?”

“I’ve always hated it, but so does my dad. He always said it was just footwork you had to remember, and let the woman lead where the hands go.” He shrugged. “Not too difficult.”

“Yes, not too difficult,” she teased. “Really, Elias?”

“Really.” He glanced around as the song ended, catching sight of his sister stepping off the floor, still with Prince Felix, moving toward the refreshments. He sighed. “Come on. Those vultures are coming back. Let’s get you outside for some air. You’re overheated.”

“Great excuse.” She looked a little dizzy, but she was smiling brightly.

“No, you’re actually overheated. I’m actually a little concerned.”

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s probably just the wine.” She waved an unconcerned hand as she fanned herself with the other.

_ Oh, God, no. Please, please, please sweet Jesus, no. _

She giggled, leaning in. “I’m definitely not drunk, but I can feel it a little in my cheeks.” She shrugged. “I was nervous.”

Confused, he asked, “Why were you nervous?”

Julia stuttered for a moment, seeming to start with one thought and change to another. “Well, what if you changed your mind and didn’t want to dance with me?”

“Fat chance.”

“Really?” One of her eyebrows arched, and he wondered, not for the first time, what her life had been like before she’d come to live in the castle. “Weren’t you just yelling at me yesterday?”

Elias didn’t want to think about their argument. “A promise is a promise, Jules. Come on.”

He led her carefully out to the gardens, keeping her steady with her hand on his arm while working desperately at keeping his face under control, finally sitting her down on a bench before sitting himself next to her. 

“So, how much  _ did _ you drink?”

“Oh, not much.” She opened her fan with a flourish and began cooling herself more rapidly. “Not roaring drunk, or anything close. Just enough to make it too hot in there. You were right about needing the air, thank you.”

Elias raised his eyebrows. “Have you  _ been _ roaring drunk?”

Julia looked around, seeming to make sure no one was close enough to hear, though it was early and no one was yet outside. Then she leaned in and whispered, “Once.”

She giggled behind her fan, and he shifted so that he more directly faced her. Smiling lopsidedly, he allowed himself to ask, “When was this?”

“Last Christmas, and you can’t tell! If you really don’t know…”

Well, damn. He’d heard half of this story, at least. “I don’t know anything about  _ you _ getting drunk last Christmas, but I know who your drinking buddy was.”

“Yeah?”

“Kristin came in almost in tears the next morning because she felt so terrible, but she told me she was drinking alone.”

“Oh, she wasn’t alone. Why would she be?” Julia rolled her vibrant green eyes. “I was there. We share a room, dummy.”

“She could have done it when you were asleep.”

“Wouldn’t happen. She’s always asleep first. She has those gentle snores that lull me off to sleep every night about an hour later.” She snorted.

“Oh, hell, Jules.” He laughed. “You looked fine, though!”

“Looked fine,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Lots of makeup. Felt terrible. Threw up half the night, so I suppose I got most of it out.”

“What was it? Kristin wouldn’t tell me.”

“Just wine.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t so bad. He’d had a glass or two himself as he’d become old enough for it to be offered at dinner. Being so tall and broad, it hadn’t had much of an effect on him. He knew a bottle was about four glasses, so split between Kristin and Julia, it didn’t seem so bad.

Julia hid behind the fan, suddenly looking very sheepish. “One bottle of red, one of white.”

Okay, so not a glass or two. “Oh, geeze!”

“Yeah.” Julia giggled, coming out from behind the fan. “I can’t remember whose idea it was, but I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end.”

“Probably hers.” He glared back toward the ballroom. “She’s the one with hasty tendencies.”

“Stop it.” Julia shook her head. “You’re not going to stew all night.”

“But I  _ want _ to stew all night,” he whined.

Julia laughed. “Come on, you owe me a walk. It’s hot in there, and I don’t want to go back in until it thins out a little.”

Elias had been worried about something like this, about being alone with her for too long. He told himself he’d stick to talking about the weather, the ball, the merits of pebbles versus pavement for a path. 

But instead, they talked about everything else. Their family, their quirks, trying to guess each other’s favorites of different items of food. They walked round in circles long enough that Julia had completely sobered, feeling invigorated by the night air, and wanting a few more go-arounds. Plus, she decided, there were still too many people inside.

The subject eventually came around of their respective childhoods, to Julia’s before she’d appeared in Arendelle. He admitted to not knowing much, other than she had an abusive father. He lowered his voice as he recounted first seeing her, exhausted and curled in the fetal position, before his parents had shooed him away. 

There were lots of stories he’d never told her, he blurted out, but he wasn’t brave enough. He stopped, not sure what she’d think if she knew why he hated the Westergaards so much, afraid to go on.

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

Oh, how very wrong she was. He shrugged in response. 

She’d ordered him to wait where he was. When she returned from her brief excursion, it was with a bottle of champagne and no glasses. He pointed this fact out, and she shook her head.

“There was no time for that!” A dismissive hand waved through the air as her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Anna was right there, so I had to run right back out.” She took a swig and passed him the bottle. “Drink up, your Royal Highness. I need to hear these stories.”

They eventually found themselves on a bench at the farthest possible point from the castle. No one had made it out here but them, and it was deserted as they sprawled lazily, so wonderfully undignified in their conduct.

“I met Hans once,” he finally blurted out. He was staring up at the sky, but he could see from the edges of his vision as Julia’s head snapped towards him, her expression deadly serious. “I think the guards must have been taking him to work, and I was somewhere around where I shouldn’t have been—the kitchens, I think. Anyway, there he was, and I swear to you, Julia, there was something in his eyes.” He shuddered at the memory. They’d looked hateful, a strange look to give a young child. 

Julia had gone quiet and very serious. He couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. “Did he know who you were?”

“He said something about how my mother should have died rather than sully her reputation by marrying beneath her. So, yeah, pretty sure he knew who I was.”

“You were a child. I’ve heard enough to know he would have wanted nothing more than to scare the life out of you.” She took a sharp breath. “Not that I’ve ever met him,” she amended, “but they talked about him when…” She paused, before continuing, “When I was a child, back… back home.”

“So you know them, and you still want to forgive them. You’d forgive  _ him.” _

“No.” Elias blinked in confusion, and she took another swig from the bottle, now just over half gone. “I will forgive the ones who deserve it,” she elaborated. “I could never forgive  _ him _ , but King Ivor is  _ not  _ his brother.” 

“How well…” Elias still looked confused, and his curious nature kept him talking. “How much do you know about the Westergaards?”

Julia frowned. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with them for a moment, seeming to ponder her answer. “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said. “I’m not going to convince you. You can only convince yourself.”

Before he could ask her what she was really thinking, Kristin’s voice broke through the night air, shrill and energetic.

“Julia!” She sounded like she was still some distance, but getting closer. “Julia, where are you?”

“I’m here!” And then she was on her feet, racing toward the sound of Kristin’s voice, and Elias was alone.

He sat for a long time after that, wondering about the look on Julia’s face when she had been thinking of the right words to say. Whatever she’d been thinking, it hadn’t been what she said.

He could hear more voices now, and knew he wouldn’t be alone long. Grabbing the bottle, he snuck away in a way only a member of their family could do, finding himself eventually back at the ballroom. He hovered outside for a little while, wondering if Julia and Kristin were coming back any time soon, not particularly interested in going inside to be fawned over by the daughter of some dignitary, but not having many more options. There were people everywhere. He only hoped… 

There was a soft whistle over his head, and a length of rope appeared in the darkened corner next to him. He grinned, grabbing on and scaling the wall until he made it to the balcony. Axel and Anita were waiting there, quickly pulling up the rope as he straightened himself out.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for not telling Papa about us breaking that vase.” Anita gave him a grateful smile.

Elias waved his hand dismissively. “I’d try not to do it again, but just a hint? Papa  _ hated _ that vase. He considered it a miracle that it broke. So if we ever tell him the truth, see, it’ll just destroy any faith he has in the divine.” The twins gawked, but he smiled, waved, and headed down the corridor.

Some years back, Elias had discovered that while sneaking into the palace could be problematic, sneaking around inside was another story. With everyone downstairs, he only had to make it in undetected. He had convinced the twins to people-watch from a balcony that had a little spot that couldn’t easily be seen from the vicinity of the ballroom, tied a rope securely and hid it off to the side, then convinced the twins to toss down the rope. It had worked flawlessly, and fans of such excitement as they were, they’d agreed to do it ever since, so long as they didn’t get in trouble.

He decided to kill some time by wandering the deserted halls, and was nearly back down when he heard someone. He hid quickly behind a pillar as the muffled voices grew closer. Then a door opened, and the voices became clear.

“...must have said  _ something  _ she liked. Girls usually only go looking for other girls to gossip.” Elias recognized that voice.

“Or maybe she’s going to tell her she thinks I’m a terrible person and they should find her brother to play some prank on me.” There was the sound of a sigh, then the second voice continued, “I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“Crown Prince Elias,” the first voice said, with a hint of chastisement, “doesn’t care for our family, son.” It was King Ivor. And the son he was speaking to had to be Prince Felix, since the last time Elias had seen Leopold, he’d been discussing civic concerns with a few other young men. “He met your uncle once—”

“Great. So he’s going to hate us forever, because of stupid Hans.” Felix sounded spiteful, angry, and a little resigned. Interesting. No one was here that he could hear, in voice or footsteps, other than the Westergaards, so who was he trying to convince?

Or, was he really what his mother and Julia had said all along? Was it possible that he was genuinely agreeable, not hiding some devious plot or ready to hurl insults the moment he was able?

“It wasn’t a good meeting.” Ivor was speaking now, and he sounded frustrated, perhaps a little angry, even. “Your uncle was spitting nails about it later when I checked on him. Said that barely-legitimate blonde brat had been running around, and oughtn't I keep better track of children with an attempted killer in the castle?”

“Very nice. What did he say to Prince Elias?”

“Something to the effect that his mother would have been better off dead.”

Elias could hear that they had moved to the balcony, and he shifted himself so that he could see the pair of them clearly, while being completely concealed by him. He’d overheard many a conversation on that balcony this way, enough to know he’d never have a private one there, himself.

“Perfect!” Felix crossed his arms, scowling as he turned to lean against the balcony. Perfect, indeed. Now Elias had a clear shot of his face.

Julia’s words came back from earlier.  _ You can only convince yourself. _

Maybe she was right.

Felix was still speaking.

“I know he’s your brother,” Felix said, and his voice was pleading. Elias wondered how many times they’d had some version of this conversation. “I know you feel guilty for not doing anything when your brothers were mean to him as a kid. But my brother was mean to me and I came out fine!”

“Leo wasn’t mean—”

“Tying my shoes all together? Telling me the castle was on fire and we had to run when I was getting dressed, so all the servants saw me in my drawers? Locking me out of Uncle Simon’s cabin in the dead of winter?” King Ivor sighed, and Felix threw up his hands. “Come on! I got over it, and he decided to try to off the neighbors! Can’t you just exile him or something?”

“In exile—”

“I know, you can’t keep an eye on him. But come on!”

“I’ve let too many brothers run awry, Felix.” The king’s voice was dark. “I’m not letting the most dangerous one out of my sight. I know they’re not to be trusted, not even with their own children.”

“You mean Benjamin and Princess Julia.” Felix scoffed. “She was too smart for them.”

_ Princess Julia? _

“Among other things, yes. I did nothing, Felix!” The King of the Southern Isles pounded his fist on the stone of the balcony, and it made a slapping sound. Felix’s head turned toward his father, looking surprised. “I did nothing for that little girl! I gave her some kind words, as much affection as I felt I safely could, but I did nothing for her! I stood by and watched my brother throw his own child across the room, then gave him nothing but a stern talking to afterward.”

“You didn’t know—”

“Precisely.” Ivor sounded as if he were gritting his teeth. “And now…”

It was quiet for a long time before Felix asked, quietly, “What do you think happened to her?”

“Oh, well, she was quite a tough little thing. I like to think someone kind found her, took her in.” Ivor’s hands slid to support him against the balcony as he leaned, staring vacantly at the magnificent view. “I try not to worry about her.”

“You really think she just vanished? That she’s not dead somewhere?”

“Stranger things have happened at sea,” Ivor mused, and Elias thought he seemed a bit cryptic.

Felix seemed not to notice, or perhaps he’d heard the same thing many times before. He shifted the subject. “You really think Hans is going to die?”

Ivor shrugged, and Elias noticed that he seemed to have no sympathy in his gaze. “Maybe, maybe not. He’s stubborn. But he was quite ill when we left. Enough that it was advised that I not visit him. I could hear him coughing from the end of the hall.”

“I…” Felix seemed to think for a moment, staring down at his shoes before he finally said, so quietly Elias almost didn’t hear him, “I feel guilty.”

“You wish your uncle would die.” Ivor nodded slowly.

“It would be better for all of us if he did.” Felix frowned. “That’s terrible, I know. I don’t  _ want _ him dead, I guess. If you say he deserves to live, he deserves to live. But I  _ wish _ he would.”

“I know, son.” Ivor sighed heavily. “Can I tell you the truth?” When Felix nodded, his father leaned in, saying just as quietly as his son had, “Sometimes I feel the same way, that I wish God would just lift this burden, this  _ man _ I keep under the same roof as my sons.”

“Maybe God knows he’s denying Satan one more soul by keeping Hans alive.” Elias finally realized that Felix never referred to Hans as his uncle, only by his first name. Something about it felt deliberate. After all, he would never call his aunt simply Elsa. It felt rude.

“None of us are above forgiveness, my son.”

“But he never asked for it.”

A laugh slipped the king’s lips. “When did you get smart enough to stump me in an argument?”

“Around the time you started getting ideas about marrying me off.” Felix looked thoughtful. “Why not try to set Princess Kristin up with Leopold? He’s the heir, afterall.”

“I don’t worry about Leo finding a wife so much as I worry about him becoming a stodgy old man before he’s thirty.” Ivor turned finally, and half his face was revealed in profile. He was smiling warmly.

“And you worry about me finding a wife?” Felix primped himself up, and Elias tried not to laugh as he watched the boy kick and spin, landing in a crouch. “I got the moves, Dad, I’ve got no problems with the ladies!”

“And you’re a good looking boy, and charming, but if you could find a wife from somewhere close to home, you could make sure that your brother and the dreary creature he will undoubtedly one day wed don’t forget how to have fun. That’s important, son.” Ivor rested a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “But not as important as the girl herself, and you do seem quite taken with her.”

Felix made a sound like a wounded animal, clutching his hand over his chest. “Oh, my heart! It cries out her name in the night!” He slumped to the floor onto his back, and Elias found himself stifling laughter when Ivor nudged him with a toe, and Felix popped up, saying, “She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

His eyes were a little glazed, cheeks flushed, and Elias had to come to the realization that Felix seemed to actually  _ like _ his sister.

“And she likes you?”

“I…” At this, Felix sounded unsure, and Elias found himself again surprised and remembering Julia’s promise of understanding through his own means. Felix was a good looking man. He wasn’t as tall or broad as Elias, but he was as tall as Kristin, strong jawed, good features—bright green eyes and auburn hair. “I hope so. I’m just not sure. She kept talking about ‘Elias this’ and ‘Elias that,’ and I’m pretty sure she thinks he’s the best thing ever, and everybody always says he is, but again, I’m pretty sure he hates me.” 

He flopped his arms out to his side, sighing heavily before continuing. “I just need to figure out what to do to get him to stop looking at me like he wants to wring my neck. I’m pretty sure he could, if he wanted to. Did you see how big he is? He’s almost as tall as the Prince Consort, and he’s one of the biggest men I’ve ever met! I mean, it would be totally worth it. Kristin likes music and stargazing and fishing—”

“Fishing?”

“Yeah!” Felix sat up at this, looking ten years younger than his nineteen. “Fly fishing, bank fishing, rock fishing—she said she once got an entire box of chocolates up the stairs using nothing but a line and a hook! And she loves to dance,  _ and,” _ he said, as if this were the most important thing to be taken into consideration, “she likes Beethoven better than Mozart.”

Well, Beethoven  _ was _ important to Kristin. More than once, she’d pounded away so passionately at the keys that their mother had needed to remind her that pianos had feelings, too, and that this one was in pain.

“Well, as long as she likes Beethoven better than Mozart.” Ivor clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Give it time, son.”

“No, you don’t understand. She  _ respects _ Mozart,” Felix said, and Elias felt something tiny and enormous shift in him all at once.  _ “Appreciates  _ Mozart. But she finds Beethoven superior in every way to every composer, even Bach!”

“I’m still impressed to hear that the second in line likes fishing.”

“Well, with her dad, it makes sense! I love you, pops, but this guy sounds amazing…” Their voices faded away as they headed back to the ball, and Elias stayed where he was for a long moment.

The world just felt like it had tilted on its axis. The thing that had been important to him as a future king, keeping his family safe from the dangers across the water, had vanished. There was no way they knew he’d been there. No one to put on a show for. That’s not why anyone ever came to this deserted balcony, just far enough away not to be bothered, close enough not to be considered odd.

But Prince Felix of the Southern Isles, Felix Westergaard,  _ liked _ his sister. And he actually seemed nice. He had morals.

So now what?

* * *

It was the time of year when there was no nighttime, but Kristoff could see it was starting to lean more toward the sun coming up than going down before they finally managed to find a good time to excuse themselves.

There were a few hangers on, but Kristin had cheerfully offered to keep an eye on everyone and shooed them away. She would probably need to sleep until noon, and might well wake up with a headache from the late hours, but she didn’t seem to care.

Kristoff was trying, and failing, to keep Anna awake. It was as if she’d spent so much energy getting everything ready that she’d forgotten she’d still have several days and nights of celebrating to come. The ball was just the beginning, really.

If he were honest, he was almost concerned. It had been over ten years since he’d seen her like this, falling asleep on her feet, and then she’d been pregnant with Sara. All he wanted now was to get her upstairs and into bed, preferably for sleep.

She was dozing now as he made his way down the long hall, pausing for a moment at a shadow before continuing on to see Elias, legs propped up against the wall as he stared from a window. 

His son was too tall now to stretch his legs across the bench, and had been for a while. Kristoff felt a little twinge at the realization that his son was becoming more of a man with each passing day.

“You okay?” Kristoff kept his voice soft, not trying to wake his snoozing wife.

“Yeah. Just thinking.” Elias lolled his head to the side and smiled slightly. “She’s tired.”

“I’m amazed she made it this long.” Kristoff smiled at his son before glancing down to make sure Anna slept on.

“Who’s watching the party?”

“Kristin’s still down there,” Kristoff said, nodding back from where he’d just come. “Julia went a while ago.”

Elias nodded, his gaze trained on his mother. He almost looked a little confused. “I don’t remember Mama being so tiny.”

“I don’t remember you not being able to fit in that window,” Kristoff retorted. “She’s always been this size. Things just seem a lot bigger when you’re little.”

“I guess.” Elias seemed to catch the double meaning in his tone. “We’ll see, anyway.”

“So you’re still not completely convinced?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” Elias sighed before turning again to look back out the window. “Kristin does seem to like him.”

Kristoff waited for more, but that was it. The brown eyes that were the same shape and color as his own stared vacantly, almost dreamily, out at the twilight.

“Did I see you dancing earlier?” Kristoff grinned. “You disappeared after that. I assume the twins let you up?”

Elias was on his feet in a split second, eyes wide. “What?”

“The twins,” Kristoff said, grinning. “I’ve never figured out how they sneak you in, I just know that they do.”

Elias’s eyes narrowed. “What else do you know?”

“Lots of things, son,” Kristoff said lightly, turning to head back down the hall. “Just like I know that Julia only stayed a little while after you disappeared.”

Working to keep from laughing, Kristoff left his perplexed son in the hall and continued on to beed.

“What do you mean, they sneak him in?” Anna’s voice sounded groggily from his chest.

“Don’t worry about it.” He shifted her as he reached for the door handle, nodding at the night guard as he went. “It’s all harmless fun. You know how much he hates those things.”

“I just wish I knew,” Anna yawned. “Would have gone with him.”

“Go back to sleep, baby.” He opened the door, letting them in before he kicked it closed with his foot. 

“No, I’m awake.” Anna squirmed, and he carefully set her down on her feet. She wobbled for a moment before finding her balance, smiling sleepily up at him. “I have a bet to win.”

“Anna, you need to sleep.”

“I will.” She was blinking her aqua eyes rapidly, further rousing herself, and he felt the shift in the air as she rested her hands at his waist for a moment. “After.”

“After, huh?” A laugh escaped his lips. “Honey, you can’t even stand up straight.”

“I don’t need to stand up,” she argued, reaching for the back of her dress. “Here, get me out of this.”

There were a thousand tiny buttons, but he managed them in a decent amount of time, tossing the ball gown over the back of a chair. She’d already started on her corset by the time he made it back over, fingerings fumbling in her exhausted state. He took over, relishing in the soft sigh as the pressure of the laces was released and he could slip it up and over her head. When he started on her petticoats, though, she batted his hands away.

“You’ve got work on your own to do,” she said, nodding at the heavy jacket he still wore. “Get naked. That’s an order.”

“Well, if it’s an order,” he said, but he was scrambling to kick aside the too-tight shoes, the jacket, the cravat, the vest, the shirt.

Christ, why did there have to be so many items of clothing?

He was finally freed of the confines of his garments when she tossed aside her chemise. The firelight was warm on her curves, which despite five pregnancies, were still fairly narrow. But her hips were a little wider, her breasts a bit fuller, her shape a bit more of an hourglass than it had been before Elias.

She was stunning.

And she was laughing.

“Your mouth is hanging open,” she said, her voice as self-satisfied as her face as she stepped toward him. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she dropped to her knees, and…

Oh,  _ Christ. _

He shouldn’t have been surprised ten minutes later when he found himself staring down at a woman who, he was fairly certain, was unconscious. He’d halted his moments, staring down at her blissful face. “Anna?”

Nothing.

“Honey?” He kissed her forehead softly.

Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she snored, instead.

Chuckling, Kristoff withdrew, carefully climbing down from the bed. Crossing to the basin, he splashed himself with some water, doing his best to eliminate the sweat, knowing it might be his best shot at a bath for twenty-four hours. As he washed and dried, Anna’s snores filled the room, and he gazed over at her in wonder.

How could a tiny person make such a sound?

And how, after twenty years, had it not gotten old?

Then again, nothing with Anna ever got old, other than him, maybe. There were some lines in his face, and hers, and some gray mixed into his hair and beard. But he could never get enough of kissing her, of holding her in his arms, of watching her smear her face with chocolate, only to give him a guilty look on being caught.

Twenty years, and it still wasn’t enough. She never stopped being his favorite person to be around, and it was one of the reasons he’d been alright with this insane party she wanted to throw to celebrate their time together. 

She almost decked him when he moved her to dress her for bed, laughing when she finally roused, seeming confused.

“Did we finish?”

His head hung low as his shoulders shook. “No, honey,” he said patiently, pulling her arms through a nightgown. “Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think it’s considered polite to make love to someone when they’re not awake to enjoy it.”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

“Whatever you say.” Nightgown on to her waist, he let go of her arms and allowed her to fall back onto the pillows, where she began to snore again. Shaking his head, he pulled aside the covers to crawl in next to her, desperate for a few hours of sleep.

Whatever she said, he thought, pulling her tightly against his side. She sighed softly in her sleep, burrowing again into his chest. He was just grateful to be with her, this amazing woman who had given him children and who trusted him with her heart and happiness, and who made him explode with joy in return.

Whatever she said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two princes extend a visit and unease quickly follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one from whence the outtake emerged. Enjoy!

Anna could barely move. It had been four days since their birthaversary ball, and a good handful of the guests had lingered, as expected. Every meal was an affair at the moment, every guest needing attention, and Anna was beyond exhausted. The knock at the door was the most unwelcome sound, and she actually snarled at it before covering herself up with a muffled shriek. She felt Kristoff climb out of bed next to her and was about to apologize first to him and then to poor Kai, when she heard the door open. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she did hear the door close again a moment later.

Then the bed shifted and there were warm arms around her as she sighed softly.

“Sorry,” she whispered, but he chided her softly.

“Don't worry about it.” His warm lips found the soft spot behind her ear. “I told Kai to give me two hours and I'd have you downstairs good as new. He's having breakfast brought up.”

“Oh, bless you. That's all I need, I swear.”

“That’s all?”

“Is there time for anything else?” Despite her exhaustion, Anna felt herself coming alive under her husband’s hands. 

The last few days had been a blur of faces that were vaguely familiar, but alien at the same time. She had scarcely seen the children, and while she spent half of the day with her husband, it was while in the company of others in their capacity as entertainers. At night, they collapsed. They had started to make love after the ball several nights ago, Anna falling asleep halfway through, as Kristoff had predicted, waking up to his bemused face as he tucked her in. Since they, the nights had been too long and her energy drained on entering their warm chambers to do much of anything but sleep. They had tried again the night before, but both were barely awake enough to undress. She had fallen asleep in her camisole next to a naked and spread eagled Kristoff.

“I think so.” Kristoff’s voice brought her back to the moment, arms warm and comfortable as they wrapped around her. 

And she felt herself dozing again.

* * *

“The Queen and Prince Consort send their regrets, but they will be unavailable for breakfast this morning.” There were a few murmurs, overwhelmingly understanding. Kai glanced over at Elias briefly before he continued. “There is a bit of urgent business they need to catch up on, and they hope you can be understanding. They will be here to say final farewells before seeing you all off on your voyages. Ah, and here’s the post!”

Kai walked down the table, and Elias watched, cutting into a sausage as he did so. When the older man reached his side, he leaned down and whispered in the prince’s ear, “Think you can handle them for a couple of hours? It was the request of his Royal Highness, on behalf of the Queen.”

“Where are they?”

Kai gave a low chuckle. “Your mother was downstairs until five o’clock with the Russian count. I can’t quite describe the sound she made when I knocked earlier, but your father insisted she needed a few hours to slowly wake up.”

“So, I really don’t need to do anything but nod and smile?”

Kai’s small smile was amused. “That’s the idea, sir.”

“And you’ll help me if I need it?” Stupid question, he aready knew the answer.

“I would be happy to advise, sir, nothing more.” Kai gave him a servile nod and a small bow.

Elias rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Kai, you could tell me what to do if you had to.”

“Only if your immediate well being depended on it, sir.”

The rest of breakfast passed peacefully enough. Elias did his best to try to emulate his mother, smiling and making conversation as he was addressed. People read their mail, chatted about journeys home, tried to recall if everything was in order for their returns. 

All but three men.

Elias couldn’t help notice the King of the Southern Isles and his two sons looking very grim as they passed a letter between them. As most of the party dispersed, they remained huddled together, whispering fervently. King Ivor kept glancing from him to Kai to the door, as if he expected, even hoped, for his parents to walk through.

He had two choices. Ignore it. They’d say something if they felt the need. Or…

_ You can only convince yourself. _

Elias rose, and the seven men remaining at the table rose with him. It was a strange feeling, but he realized glancing around that he was the highest ranking member of his family present.

“King Ivor?” He didn't mean it to come out as a question, but it was too late to stop once he’d decided to speak. “Is everything alright?”

King Ivor, despite his superior rank, gave a deep bow to Elias. “Prince Elias. I do not wish to inconvenience Her Majesty during her time of duty, but I do unfortunately have a matter of deepest urgency.”

Elias glanced at Kai, who nodded encouragingly. He drew himself up to his full height and hoisted his chin, at least a half a head taller than the king in front of him, feeling a little satisfaction when Ivor blinked. “The Queen, my mother, has asked that I take care of any matters that might arise. So if it’s quite alright, I’d like to try to help you myself, before going straight to the Queen.” He saw Felix deflate out of the corner of his eye, but he held his stance, eyes staring straight into King Ivor’s, never straying. “What seems to be the problem?”

Ivor stared him down for a moment, and Elias knew he was being sized up. Finally, the king handed over the letter.

_ Regret to inform you of your brother’s passing… Fifth instance today of a death… Manifests in high fever and progresses to disorientation… Council is amenable to a recess until the crisis is averted… Royal children have been removed to the country under the care, and at the advice, of Prince General Simon…  _

“Ten subjects dead in a week of influenza.” Ivor’s voice was hollow. “And they want me to stay away? Hunker down in fear while my people suffer? I have no desire to hide, but—”

“We would be fine, father,” Leopold said, his voice filled with bravado. “We’re not afraid.”

“It’s not about being afraid, Leo, it’s about being practical.” Felix rolled his eyes like this was not the first time the pair had held this same conversation. “Father has his eldest two heirs away from sickness, and the rest surrounded. You saw this, they’re evacuating our family, Leo! Uncle Simon’s not a coward. He wouldn’t take them away unless he were really concerned.”

Elias knew that was true. He’d met Simon once, and if he hadn’t looked as he had, he would have never known they were related. Simon was a navy man, a soldier through and through, unafraid of any foe, as charming and swashbuckling as any pirate.

“If they can keep us in a completely separate country, it would make sense.” Felix was still speaking, frowning at his brother. “I know it’s not pleasant to think about, but we have to be realistic. This isn’t the right battle to fight.”

The words blurted out before he could stop them. “Prince Felix is correct.”

Well, shit. He was, Elias supposed.

Silence followed the statement as the three Westergaads stared at Elias. Then Felix spoke, overwhelming relief clear in his voice.  _ “Thank  _ you, Prince Elias. You see, Leo? This is simple logic. Prince Elias agrees with me,” he said, and Elias noticed that the older man seemed to hold himself a bit more confidently with this statement.

“And where would we go?” Leopold sounded a bit resigned, if not quite ready to give up yet.

Elias interjected himself again. “You’ll stay here.” Oh, God, he was so nervous he could puke all over the shoes of the King of the Southern Isles. “It doesn’t make sense for you to go anywhere else when you’re already abroad, and we’re neighbors, so as Prince Felix said,” Elias concluded, nodding toward the prince in question as if there had never been any discomfort between them, “it’s practical.”

“And you're sure the Queen won’t mind?” King Ivor sounded hesitant to ask.

“Sir,” Elias said, nodding slightly to Ivor, “my mother put me in charge for a morning. If she doesn’t like it, then clearly she’s still got a lot to teach me. But I genuinely believe she won’t mind in the slightest. In fact, I’m sure if I didn’t offer, she’d probably have even more to say on the subject. I know how much she values the alliance between our countries, and how much she looks at you as a friend.”  _ Don't throw up, don’t throw up… _ “Kai? I’ll need you to make those arrangements.”

“I’ll let Gerda know the princes are staying on.”

“Do we think a few weeks…” Elias stared directly into Kai’s eyes, willing him to understand his plea for help.

“A month, perhaps, your Royal Highness?” Kai bowed in the direction of King Ivor. “Unless His Majesty requires any different amount of time, long or short. I can assure your Royal Highness that there is plenty of room, and all efforts will be made to ensure the comforts of the princes.” 

Then he leaned close into Elias’s ear, gently guiding the younger man’s arm so that he was maneuvered in such a way that the Westergaards could not make out the quick, low whisper of, “And I can also assure your Royal Highness that the Queen will not mind in the slightest. In fact, I think she’ll be quite proud. And if I’m wrong, you can banish me to the North Mountain.” Then Kai pulled back, the neutral expression still on his face.

“Perfect.” Elias forced a smile onto his face, relaxing when he saw the look of relief on Ivor’s face. “So it’s settled. You two stay here, and King Ivor can write when it’s safe for you to return home. In the meantime, we’ll keep you amused. We’ve got the ice festival coming up soon, and that’s always fun.”

Felix looked intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Official start of the harvesting season.” Elias shook his head, a small, genuine smile of amusement crossing his face. “My mother does love a good festival, and the people of Arendelle never complain.”

King Ivor gave Elias a low bow. “I cannot thank you enough for this, Prince Elias.”

“Just Elias.” Another voice interjected behind him. He felt a wave of relief wash over him at the sound of Kristin’s voice, and he wondered how long she’d been standing there. “He prefers to be called Elias. And I am Kristin, the Princess Royale, but you may call me Kristin.” She gave their visitors her most charming smile, the one that made men look twice and had helped seal more than one or two deals with other countries. “We are neighbors, after all. We can be friendly.”

“Then to you, my dear, I shall simply be Ivor.” The king smiled warmly at her, easily charmed and bowing slightly. “I thank you for your hospitality.”

“Our family is honored to be of assistance,” Kristin stated regally, and Elias wondered where she mustered it from. She didn’t look nervous at all. She turned to Kai. “Kai, can you find a footman to help His Majesty finish any packing and gather his luggage? I understand your ship is leaving shortly.”

“It is, so I must take my leave to finish my preparations. Thank you…” He trailed off, looking inquiringly at Elias.

“Elias.” He felt braver with Kristin next to him, and he didn’t know where she’d come from or how she was even awake, but he was eternally grateful to her in that moment.

And to his surprise, the king did not bow, but instead extended a hand. Elias reached out and shook it just as his father had taught him—firm, but not tight, not overly brief, but not lingering.

“Elias?” Kristin’s voice sounded again at his side. “I’m sorry, I know you’re probably busy, but…” She bit her lip, watching the King’s retreating back and glancing at the two princes, who quickly turned away. “Mama and Papa are indisposed,” she whispered, giving him a meaningful look and a fantastic eye roll, “and I think Axel might be about to be murdered. Can you come help me pull them off each other?”

It had to take five minutes to race upstairs as fast as their legs would carry them, but by the time they got there, Elias was sure things had only gotten worse.

Axel’s bedroom was in shambles. Feathers floated in the air, landing on ruined furniture, and Elias wasn’t even sure what was being said as the twins screeched at each other. He sized up the situation for a moment, then looked at his sister, who had been followed to the scene by a perplexed Oskar and an amused Sara.

“I tried getting them to shut up, but nothing’s working.”

“And Papa…” Elias trailed off.

Kristin raised her eyebrows. “You wanna go try? I got an earful earlier. I mean, for heaven’s sake, if I was a guest who was lost and wandering around, I’d think somebody was being murdered.”

Elias winced, then shifted his attention again to the task at hand. The twins were going to need to be physically pulled away from each other, and that probably wouldn’t even stop them. Maybe a bucket of cold water… 

Then, he had an idea.

“Kristin and Oskar, you grab Anita. I’ll grab Axel, and Sara, get the doors.”

Sara’s eyes grew wide. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going downstairs, out through the kitchens.” Elias grinned. “It’s a warm, sunny day out. I think it’s nice weather for a swim.”

Kristin laughed outright at this, and that reassured Elias that his father, at least, would approve of his plan.

Sara glanced at Oskar. Oskar glanced at the mayhem of the twins' battle, then shrugged, looking to his eldest sister. Kristin grinned at Elias, and without another word spoken, the Bjorgman twins were seized by their siblings and carried down the back stairs, still hollering at each other all the way.

The look of shock as they were tossed into the fjord was one of the most outstandingly funny things Elias had ever seen. They had been followed out by a bemused Kai, who watched as the twins surfaced, sputtering and splashing in shock and outrage.

“I’ll make sure they make it to shore and back to the castle, sir,” Kai said, lips pressed as if he were trying desperately not to smile.

As they headed back inside, Elias addressed his siblings. “Do I even want to know what actually just happened?”

“Axel thought it would be a riot to put tacks next to her bed while she was sleeping.” Sara’s voice was matter of fact, as usual. “She woke up and stepped on them, and I woke up to her screaming, ‘Axel, I’m going to murder you with my bare hands!’” 

“Very nice. And when we have company.” Elias rubbed his forehead. His father’s head was going to blow off his shoulders when he saw the damage.

“Oh, nobody hears anything that comes from up there.” Kristin waved a dismissive hand. “Should we get back in there?”

Oskar turned his gaze to the blue sky over their heads, no longer interested as the conversation took its steer back to the mundane. “It’s a nice morning for a walk, don’t you think, Sara?”

Sara grinned. “Let’s go find Kai and watch Anita and Axel for a little bit. Then we should go upstairs and wait.”

“Papa is going to be  _ furious _ !” Their voices faded as they wandered off, two heads of blonde hair shining in the spring sun.

Elias and Kristin walked inside, both still somewhat exerted from their exploits, and it was only once they were inside that Kristin finally spoke. “I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, really, but did I hear you say something about the princes staying and the ice festival?”

“I’ll tell you later.” They were coming within earshot of some of the diplomats and visiting royalty who were leaving on the first ships of the morning, and Elias needed to schmooze for a few more minutes until his mother showed up. “I have to deal with this now. Think Mama will be down anytime soon?”

“Kai said ten o’clock.” She shrugged, rolling her eyes. “When the twins were going insane, I thought I’d get Papa, but they’re clearly too busy to make it downstairs.” Kristin shook her head, her blonde braids moving a little sharply with the violent movement. “I’m glad our rooms are away from theirs,” She shuddered. “It’s so gross. They’re  _ so  _ loud.”

Elias grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

They were too close to visitors for further conversation, and Kristin mercifully stayed at his side, seeming to sense his need not to be completely on his own. Eventually, Julia appeared, and he looked inquisitively toward her as she approached, smiling.

For a moment, Elias forgot that he should probably greet her. She looked stunning. She wore a deep green riding habit that brought out her green eyes, one that was splattered in mud and disheveled, her hat unpinned and dangling between her long fingers. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, rust colored hair coming loose from her chignon and framing her face. She seemed to have retained her merry mood from the night before, but something in her eyes left him convinced that whatever had been bothering her for the past few days was still on her mind.

“Where have you been?” Kristin spoke before him, and she sounded indignant. She dragged Julia off to a small alcove next to the staircase. “The twins lost their damn minds and I could have used your help!” she hissed.

Julia gave her a wry look. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went riding early. You were snoring, so I thought I’d leave you. What did I miss?” Then she suddenly giggled, reaching up to pick something from his hair. Elias felt his stomach do a flip. “Oh, good Lord, feathers?” Then she reached over to Kristin, still giggling. “Oh, God, what did they do?”

“Tell you later.” Kristin heaved a sigh. “Elias still has a few people to speak to, but he needs to be preened, and my mother still hasn't shown up yet, so I should probably help.”

Julia frowned. “Where are they? I can go get—”   
  


“No!” Elias and Kristin interrupted Julia at the same time.

Julia raised an eyebrow, somehow managing to look down her long nose at Elias, who had always stood at least half a head taller than her. “And why not?”

“Know what, Jules?” Elias stepped aside, sweeping his arm wide in invitation, feeling the breaking of the spell with at her haughty look. “Go right on ahead. They’re probably still in their bedroom.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Julia said flippantly, “she’s right there. I’m off to change.” The men in the hall bowed low as the Queen appeared, then began to assemble themselves into a greeting, or in this case, a farewell line. Julia smiled, bobbing slightly at Anna as she stepped toward the teenagers. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, honey.” Anna surveyed her riding attire with a raised eyebrow. “Went through some creeks this morning, didn’t you?” She sighed wistfully. “I wish I had your energy.”

“It wasn’t energy. I couldn’t sleep.” She gave Anna some meaningful look that Elias didn’t understand, and his mother nodded sympathetically.

“Maybe take a nice, long bath and a little nap. I’ll have Gerda bring you lunch in a while.”

Julia smiled warmly as Anna squeezed her in a quick hug before heading up the stairs, seeming eager to get changed. 

“Good morning, Mama.” Kristin crossed her arms over her chest, looking suddenly stern. “Did you finish all that urgent business Kai was talking about? And where’s Papa?”

Anna raised an eyebrow at her oldest daughter. “I was resting. I’m exhausted from balls and meetings and listening to young women go on and on about certain young men.” 

Kristin blushed, and Elias looked at her in disbelief. Kristin had still hardly said a word to him about Felix, and the jealousy hurt a little. At some point, his mother and sister had started keeping little things, little  _ female _ things, between them, and it hurt more than he would have thought to expect.

When had they grown old enough for such things to become common?

When had  _ everything _ changed?

His mother was still speaking. “Your father went to check on your brothers and sisters.” At this, Elias and Kristin turned their gazes to each other, eyes growing wide. “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Kristin wrung her hands slightly, making a sweet and innocent smile for her mother. “I woke up to Anita screaming she was going to kill Axel. Maybe it’s something to do with that.”

Before she had time to say anything else, the sound of pounding, rushed footsteps met their ears. They all three turned to see Kristoff, barreling down the stairs with Oskar and Sara not too far behind. He said nothing as he brushed past, but his face spoke volumes. He was red from his ears to the end of his nose, dark eyes burning with fury. His fists were clenched, shoulders tight under the jacket Elias knew he hated.

In short, the worst possible scenario for Axel and Anita.

On passing his wife with no explanation, Anna called after him, sounding perplexed and a little concerned. Kristoff froze, turning slowly toward his wife.

“Your children,” he ground out, “have  _ completely _ destroyed Axel’s bedroom. I have a thousand things to do today, and that boy decided today was the day to put tacks next to his sister’s bed.”

Anna looked confused. “I’m confused as to how that leads to a destroyed bedroom.”

“I don’t care,” Kristoff replied. “Frankly, I don’t want to know. I’m going to have a hard enough time not killing them myself when I find them.” Then Elias watched as his father’s eyes focused, frowning as he turned to his youngest two children. “Didn’t you say you knew where they were?”

“We tried to tell you, Papa,” Sara finally chimed in, “but you said you didn’t want to know.” She gave him a very severe look for one so young, crossing her arms over her chest. “You didn’t even want to listen.”

“It might cheer you up,” Oskar added, smiling.

Sassy and sweet, Elias thought, surveying Sara and Oskar. Thank God each had the other.

“Really.” Their father crossed his arms over his broad chest. “And where, might I ask, are they?”

“We threw them in the fjord,” Sara said proudly. “Well, I held open the doors so the others could carry them down, but I helped!”

“You…” Kristoff trailed off, mouth hanging open as he turned to Elias in disbelief, then back to Sara. “You mean to tell me that you three,” he gestured to Elias, Kristin, and Oskar, “threw your brother and sister off the wall and into the fjord, and that you,” he pointed to Sara, who seemed more unconcerned about his expression than her brothers and sister, “held open doors, and then you just left them there to fend for themselves?”

“We didn’t leave them alone,” Elias said quickly, unable to gauge whether his father was angry at  _ him  _ now, or not. “Kai stayed there to make sure they got out okay. We wouldn’t just leave them there, totally alone.”

Kristoff blinked and raised his eyebrows. “Then you’re a hell of a lot nicer than me. Next time, ask, and I’ll help you. That’s brilliant.” His eyes were now shining with mirth. “You just got me at least an hour to not have to deal with it.”

“And next time,” their mother admonished, “you might not do it when we have so many guests.” But there was a small sparkle in her eyes that told Elias she was also amused.

“Who came up with the idea?”

“Elias.” Sara sounded proud. “Kristin just got grumpy and yelled a lot, but he’s handled things very well this morning.” 

“I can see that.” Anna frowned as she surveyed the few remaining visitors. “I see King Ivor. Where are the princes? I wanted to tell them goodbye, at least.”

“They’re staying.” Elias waved a hand as his mother looked at him in surprise. “I hope it’s okay. There’s some really terrible flu going around, and King Ivor isn’t too crazy about taking them back. They evacuated the rest of the family, and they were already here, so I offered to have them stay for a while. Maybe they’re back in their rooms.”

“Oh!” Anna looked surprised, and glanced back toward King Ivor. “I suppose I’d better go speak with him, then. And of course it’s okay,” she added, rolling her eyes as she seized her husband’s arm. “I’m just surprised  _ you,  _ of all people, thought to offer.” Elias saw her eyes sparkle as she added, “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

Then she tousled his hair like he was five years old before heading off to have a few final words with King Ivor before his departure.

* * *

  
  


Dinner that evening was finally normal. 

Almost.

After talking with Ivor, Kristoff understood that the King would feel better with his two sons out of the country altogether, and Kristoff found himself agreeing. The illness was highly contagious and spreading rapidly, and Ivor was clearly distracted as he made his goodbyes, his sons appearing just in time to escort him to the docks. Castle staff had fallen ill, and it was clearly widespread already. Ivor refused to shirk his responsibilities, but understood the risks of taking his sons back when they were already abroad.

So, while every other guest had departed, Princes Leopold and Felix remained, settled into two of the largest guest rooms, down a quiet hallway for the lengthened stay. As such honored guests, they would join the family for meals they wished, and the princes had accepted the invitation to dinner.

The children didn’t quite seem to know what to say. Elias was quiet, almost a little surly, and preoccupied himself with his plate. Kristin was suddenly more shy than Kristoff had ever seen her, and Julia hadn’t said a word, other than in welcome, to anyone.

Kristoff worried that the Westergaards staying would stress Julia, but if she was concerned, she didn’t show it. Indeed, though she said nothing, she observed with an almost curious expression.

It was quiet for a few moments while they ate and silently debated new subject matter. They had discussed the weather, a bit on the influenza crisis, and horses, and now they were stuck.

“You should all go up the mountain tomorrow,” Anna suggested. “It might be interesting for the princes to see how the ice trade works.”

“Yes, I’ve read quite a bit on the ice trade and how efficiently run it is in Arendale.” Leopold finally spoke. He’d been nearly silent the entire dinner, as well, only speaking in gratitude, or when asked a direct question. Away from Ivor, he almost seemed shy. “I would like to see that. We don’t have so many mountains on the Isles.”

“Lots of rivers and waterfalls,” Felix added, “but nothing like these mountains. It’s a beautiful country.”

“So, you’ll go.” Anna nodded, then speared a potato.

“We’ll go.”

Kristoff wanted to bang his head on the table, and her soft sigh, inaudible and invisible to anyone but him, made him sure Anna felt the same.

It made a little sense, but it still felt off. He hoped it would only be a one night event. A part of him wanted to bring down the twins, who had been banished to Axel’s room until repairs were made, but he was still too furious at the destruction to allow it. They needed to work out whatever was bothering them, and hopefully, they’d be back the next evening.

“You’ll have to visit the library while you’re here, Leopold,” Kristin suddenly piped up. Thank Christ. “Felix says you’re quite the avid reader.”

“I am,” the older brother replied, giving her a nod. “History is my favorite subject, but I’ve been known to read a novel or two every so often. Felix is the one who loves fiction.”

“Our mother used to read us scary stories when we were little.” Felix’s voice and expression were nostalgic. “To keep us in bed, you know.” He grew a little somber, shifting from the little smile to an expression of grief.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother,” Anna said softly. “I met her several times. She was warm and so lovely.”

“Thank you,” Leopold said. He was a little louder this time, and Kristoff suspected this was familiar territory. “She always spoke highly of you.”

“She was a good judge of character.” Anna’s words held some extra meaning, a queen speaking to a future monarch.

“I’m happy to hear that you think so,” the young prince responded, understanding her tone quite clearly. “Your Majesty is so gracious to allow us safe harbor here, when it is we who owe you so much.”

“Your father is a good man, Leopold, and a good ally,” Anna said, her voice gentle. “I know it hasn’t always been easy for your family, and I just want to help, if I can.”

“Yes, well…” Leopold sighed, taking a sip of wine and looking conflicted. “Perhaps things will be easier now.”

Kristoff felt his brow furrow, and he shrugged when Anna looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Leopold looked to his brother for understanding, and it was Felix who answered Anna’s question. “Well, with our nearest uncles dead, we can only hope that people can continue to see our father as the upstanding man that he is. My Uncle Benjamin was a terrible man who stole from his neighbors. He had nothing left when he died, and left his family penniless. They couldn’t pay Corona their debts, even after my cousin sold off the keys to everything they had. He wasn’t good to his family, either. All my cousins were married off to some foreign prince before they were twenty. Well, except the lost princess.”

Kristoff felt his stomach lurch as Kristin looked up from her dinner, intrigued. “Lost princess?” she repeated.

“Our cousin ran away when she was young. My uncle looked for her for a few months, then suddenly one day just decided to stop. He never explained it, but I don’t think he cared about what happened to her.”

“How could he not care about his own daughter?” Kristin looked outraged. Kristoff was relieved to see that Julia’s face still gave away nothing. She had made herself look mildly concerned, but she made no comment on the story.

“Father says he beat her.” Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and his handsome face darkened. “He said once his brother treated the lowest kitchen maid better than he treated his youngest daughter. Papa honestly believes she’s better off wherever she landed, and with whatever fate befell her, than anything that would have remained for her in Bergland.”

“That’s terrible.” Kristin had lowered her fork, keeping it frozen as her face took on an almost horrified expression.

“I agree. Like I said, neither of the two defective uncles I’ve ever met have been what I would call a good person. And the only one worse than Benjamin was Hans.” Leopold gave his younger brother a warning look, but Felix ignored him and continued. “With both of them gone, maybe we have a chance of getting someone other than Arendelle to trust us again.”

Anna blinked rapidly, understanding crossing her face. “What exactly do you mean, ‘with both of them gone?’”

It was so silent for a moment that Kristoff could hear his own rapid heartbeat.

Felix spluttered a little, then blurted out, “Well, he’s dead, Your Majesty. Hans. The influenza, you see. It was fairly sudden. The death, I mean. He’d been sick all week, and he just took a sudden turn about a day after we left.”

Ivor had mentioned briefly on his arrival that his brother was ill. It made sense that Hans had whatever illness the castle staff and subjects had contracted.

Kristoff had often wondered how he would take this news when it finally arrived, but he hadn’t imagined accurately how it would feel. Relieved, guilty, a little validated. Kristoff kept many of his more controversial opinions to himself, but he had always wished Hans dead. 

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.” Felix bowed his head, looking at his plate. “I thought you would know.”

“No, I was unaware.”

“It was only in the letter my father received this morning. It was buried in all the other news. Just another casualty, you know.” Felix shrugged, looking both embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have withheld that from you on purpose, I promise. The letter is up in my room, I can fetch it for you if you’d—”

And God bless the mother in Anna, she noticed his discomfort and interrupted him. “I’m sure your father would have told me himself if he weren’t so concerned about getting home and making sure you and your brother were safe. I’m not at all upset.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Felix kept his head bowed. “I really am sorry.”

“Felix?” The young man finally looked up as he was casually addressed by the Queen of Arendelle. “Really, honey, it’s fine. I understand.” 

Her words were carefully emphasized, her tone somewhere between a queen and a mother. God, he thought, she was  _ magnificent.  _ She was the most loving person he knew, the woman who could fix the world with encouragement, a smile, and a hug.

Felix released a breath he seemed to have been holding. He looked up at her, seeming to read her for a moment, before saying, “Thanks.” He took another bite of his dinner and suddenly said, “You know, I love potatoes. What do you think the twins are having for dinner tonight, sir?” he asked Kritsoff, grinning.

Kristoff burst out laughing, burying his face in his hand as he cackled. Maybe it was inappropriate with their present company, but it felt so desperately needed that he couldn’t help it. In less than a minute, they were all snorting into their glasses, trying to compose themselves, even Leopold.

They were nearly back to some form of civilized conversation before Julia, who had laughed though she never did speak, suddenly choked out her first unsolicited word of the night, “Potatoes,” and it started all over again.

When they finally sobered, Kristoff asked Kai what, in fact, the twins were having for dinner.

“You said to be harsh, sir, so a hearty stew, bread and butter, and water. Absolutely no dessert.”

“Thank you, Kai,” Kristoff said, “and not just for that. You’ve been very helpful with them all day, and we appreciate that.”

“Oh, it was quite alright, sir.” The old overseer smiled mildly. “It was quite amusing to listen to them arguing who was more at fault for their presence in the fjord until they were too exhausted from swimming. They were quiet by the time I met them onshore with blankets.”

Felix and Leopold looked suddenly interested in this personal exchange, but Kristoff continued as if he hadn’t noticed.

“Are they still awake?”

“Yes, sir. I told them you might be by after dinner.”

“Perfect.”

“Do you mean to tell me,” Anna asked, mock-scowling very convincingly at Kristoff, “that my children have been subjected to manual labor and are now eating a prisoner’s meal, and that you have left them in fear all day of the ultimate punishment they’ll get from their father?”

“Yes, dear.” He could see the looks of concern cross the faces of Felix and Leopold.

“Very good.” She smiled. “So punishment by anticipation.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Carry on.” She smiled brightly at Kai. 

Later, once the dinner was over and dessert consumed, they found themselves, as always, in the library. Julia quietly slipped away when Oskar and Sara went to bed, gently tapping her temple as she smiled apologetically at Kristin, and the blonde girl smiled and nodded sympathetically.

It was a lie, and he knew it. He’d seen the tensing of her shoulders when she’d arrived downstairs, however brief, to be greeted by the sight of the estranged family who didn’t have the faintest clue who she was. He would need to talk to her about it in the morning. They would all three need to sit down at some point, with so much to discuss, but he worried that this couldn’t be put off.

Anna was resting against his side as she sipped at a glass of wine. Leopold poured over some book Anna had suggested, while Kristin showed Felix one of her favorite books of local folklore.

“You’ll have to ask my aunt about it when she visits,” Kristin suggested. “She knows these and more, and some Northuldran ones, too.”

“You love fairy stories, don’t you?” Felix’s voice was teasing. Kristoff tried to look as though he was paying no attention while he stared into the fire, but he was in fact listening closely. He knew Anna was, as well.

“I really do. I’m just a romantic, I guess.” She sighed dramatically and Felix chuckled warmly. “I still can’t stop thinking about that princess. You know, your cousin. Is that story really true?”

“It is,” Felix said, sounding sad. “Poor cousin Julia.”

“Julia,” Kristin repeated, and Kristoff worked hard to keep his gaze steady. “Like my sister.”

Felix smiled. “I like that you call her that. It’s nice. Yes, like your Julia. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I keep thinking she looks familiar, but at the same time, I know for a fact I’ve never met her. When would I?” He laughed.

“People think she must be related to us somehow, because of the red hair. But that’s almost impossible, because our family is so small.”

“I wouldn’t call a family with six children small.”

Kristin giggled. “No, I mean the people my mother descended from. Maybe a few Northuldrans, but nobody from down here. My grandfather was an only child, and my aunt doesn’t have any kids of her own. We’ve got some cousins in Corona, but that’s about it.”

“Still, I don’t think Julia looks like your mother. Not that much, anyway. Her hair is too dark.”

“I  _ know!”  _ Kristoff glanced at Anna, seeing that her eyes had reopened, and she looked a bit worried. Fortunately, Leopold was still engrossed in his book while Elias was sitting with a book in his lap while he stared moodily out over the fjord in a corner. Felix and Kristin were wrapped up in their own little whisper world, not noticing anyone else in the room. “It’s too dark, it’s not the right texture, her eyes are green and not blue or brown, her nose doesn’t look like anyone in my family, and the ears aren’t even close!”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

Kristoff watched his daughter blush at the praise. “Julia’s just… Julia.”

“Is she always that quiet?”

“No.” Kristin laughed softly, shaking her head. “You know, she was this poor little orphan Papa found and brought home, and we all just fell in love with her. She’s an amazing person. Wherever she came from, it made her quite the character. She’s brave and smart and strong willed, she’s just a little slow to trust sometimes. She can seem a little standoffish when you first meet her, even shy, but give her some time.”

“That sounds like your family, though.”

Kristoff watched as his daughter blushed at the thinly veiled compliment. “Could be yours, though, too. Honestly, she looks more like you than me.”

“Could she be the lost  _ Princess  _ Julia?”

They exchanged conspiratorial looks, then burst into a fit of giggles. Leopold finally looked up, and Anna again allowed her eyes to drift closed. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just a joke.” Leopold nodded, more interested in his book than a joke, and looked back down.

The topic changed to music, and though it never went back to Julia or theorizing about the lost princess, Kristoff still worried, and Anna would tell him later as they dressed for bed that she was also concerned that the little joke could be a seed.

Though a seed could wither and die, if conditions were not met to foster its growth, it could also break the surface and turn into a merciful and lovely rose; or, more likely when factoring in what Elias’s reaction could be, a large, snarled weed.

Julia had shown little desire to ever make her presence in Arendelle fully known. She reveled in the quiet that came with being able to slip away when things were too loud. She’d shown no desire almost a week before, when they’d informed her of the death of her father. Though she was dealing with the death with no difficulty, he knew how difficult she was finding the presence of her uncle and cousins.

What if they knew? She had wondered aloud amid pacing two nights ago. What if Ivor had told them? What if they figured it out? What if she let something slip, some tiny detail that would mean nothing to her adopted siblings, but that would give her away to the much better informed princes?

She hadn’t been sleeping, picked lightly at her food and only finished half of her plate when she was fully capable of wiping it clean with the last of a piece of bread. Though Anna had confirmed with Ivor the ignorance of his sons, Julia still wore a creased brow the few times he’d caught her on her own. She’d masked it just as a good Westergaard princess did, with a smooth smile and passive expression.

He was in no way fooled.

“We’ll talk to Julia in the morning,” Anna said. “Maybe she’ll want to stay with Elsa.”

Kristoff shook his head. “That would look more suspicious. But if she knows it could be coming, she’ll have time to think about her reaction. You saw her at dinner, and I know you’ve seen it before. That girl is more than a master of her emotions. She’s a damned good little actress when she has to be.”

“It kept her safe as a child.” Anna’s voice was sad as she settled herself onto the couch in front of the fire. “It kept her alive.”

“Julia will be fine, no matter what.” Kristoff wrapped an arm around her wife. “She’s always been tough as nails. We just have to hope that if she were going to run, she would have done it a long time ago.”

“You think she’ll run?” Anna sounded alarmed.

“No. She loves us too much. Loves Kristin too much, and Elias.”

Anna sighed, burrowing closer to him. “I hope you’re right. And I guess we’ll find out in the morning, either way.”

They’d find out in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that night, Julia finally finds a confidant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of child abuse and alcoholism.

Julia could feel the blood rushing in her ears. Thankfully, Kristin laughed about the idea of Julia being a lost princess as if it was the funniest thing she’d heard in ages for only a moment. Julia made herself calm and attentive, laughing when she needed to laugh, nodding and smiling when she needed to nod and smile. Kristin glossed quickly over the subject, and Julia was relieved to see that she seemed to pay the joke no more mind. She was more interested in discussing Felix, and Julia happily helped guide the conversation in that direction.

“And, oh my  _ God, _ those dreamy eyes! I can’t get over his eyes!” Kristin dramatically threw herself onto her bed.

The same eyes, Julia thought uneasily, as hers. She really didn’t see how it wasn’t more obvious. Julia had been told as a child her one advantage was her resemblance to Hans. And Felix had the same look—auburn waves, striking green eyes, and the exact same long, straight nose. It was so striking to Julia that she almost preferred not to be in the same room as him for long, but it was difficult. Leaving too quickly could easily upset Kristin, who would complain that Julia didn’t like Felix, which was as far from the truth as possible.

Felix was kind and funny. He was a perfect match for Kristin, and Julia could see coming to love him as another brother. She wished she’d known him when they were children—it would have been nice to have a friend like him. And he had said he always felt sorry and worried for her, running away and disappearing. 

When Kristoff had pulled her from the snow, she’d said she had no family who cared to look for her. But it was a lie. She _ did _ have a family, and with her father dead and Corona now controlling Bergland, her Uncle Ivor was the only one of her family who knew she was still living. 

What if, someday, Felix, who seemed to care, decided to really do some digging? Julia knew there were letters. Who knew what he would find if he looked? Would he be angry? His words and actions made her think he would be anything but. 

What would Kristin say if she knew her joke was the truth? 

What would Elias say?

Her head was swirling, and she realized belatedly that she’d been paying very little attention to Kristin, who was now looking at her with real concern. She climbed down from her bed and crossed to Julia’s, climbing up next to her and resting a hand on Julia's arm. 

“Hey,” Kristin said softly. “Where are you? You look like you have a load on your shoulders.”

Julia smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I just get lost in my thoughts sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah…” Kristin frowned. “Not like that, though. I said your name five times, and you just kept looking out the window like you were trying to unravel the universe.”

“And if I was?”

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” Kristin seemed to have completely forgotten about Prince Felix for the moment, focused on the crisis in front of her. It was something Julia had always loved about Kristin. She was one of the most loving, forgiving people she knew.

Elias and his parents were the others.

But would Elias forgive her for this?

Julia opened and closed her mouth. She could feel that she had begun wringing her hands, and felt Kristin take them each in her own, squeezing tightly.

“I know I can tell you anything,” she finally blurted. There was no sleeping through this, Julia decided quickly, and if she went another night with a few half-hearted hours spent tossing and turning, she was sure to lose her mind and blurt out everything anyway. “And… I promise, Kristin, I will tell you  _ everything _ someday, but right now, I need to speak to the Queen.”

“‘The Queen?’” Kristin repeated, looking confused. “We’re upstairs, Jules. You don’t have to call her ‘the Queen.’ What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you now. Please don’t hate me.” She squeezed Kristin’s hands once more then pulled away, reaching for her robe. Then, she changed her mind. “Here, help me get dressed.”

“Why do you need to get dressed?” Kristin was understandably perplexed.

“Just something simple, come on.”

In five minutes, Julia was dressed, hair fixed and on her way out the door, casting back an apologetic look to the girl who had become more her sister, even more so than her own blood sisters.

“You promise you’ll tell me what’s wrong?”

“I promise. When I can.”

“What does that even  _ mean?” _ Kristin threw herself on the bed again. “I do not understand  _ any _ of this!” Her arms splayed violently to her side with her words.

Julia paced back to Kristin’s bed, seating herself at the blonde girl’s side. “I promise, you just have to trust me when I tell you, you’ll understand once you know. Please just trust me, Kristin.”

Kristin sighed dramatically, then said to the ceiling, almost as if she were annoyed, “I trust you.” Her tone betrayed her, and Julia knew that Kristin truly did trust her.

Dropping a kiss on Kristin’s forehead, Julia said, a vow as much as a statement, “I love you.”

The younger girl rolled her brown eyes. “Love you, too. Now, go speak to ‘the Queen.’”

Julia made her way down a few hallways to the chambers of the Queen and the Prince Consort. She paused outside the door, trying to ascertain whether or not it was a good time. It was a quiet family joke that, if you knocked on that door in the nighttime, sometimes even the day, you never knew what you might hear. Julia actually found it amusing.

Tonight, it was relatively quiet. She could hear a soft murmuring from inside, but it was the sound of quiet voices conversing. She wondered as she knocked if they were talking about her.

The door opened a moment later, revealing Kristoff in sleep attire and a robe, warm loafers on his feet. Over his shoulder, she could see Anna seated on the lounge in front of the fire. “Julia? Are you alright, honey?” Her voice sounded worried.

Julia’s eyes darted from Anna to Kristoff then back and forth again. She could feel the cracks thickening into breaks in her carefully crafted facade. “I don’t know if I can do this much longer,” she finally managed to say, trying her hardest to hold back the cascade of tears that threatened to escape.

Before she knew it, the door was opening more fully, allowing her admittance before closing again, and she was being ushered to the chaise. Then the door was closing, Anna’s arms wrapping around her in a tight hug, and the sobs came free. She could feel Anna rubbing soft circles on her back, motherly to her even though she hadn’t birthed her. 

“Julia, honey,” Anna murmured after a while, “can you tell us what’s wrong?”

She tried to catch her breath, hearing herself gasping and forcing the entry of air into her lungs to occur more slowly. “He looks  _ exactly _ like me,” Julia gasped. “Everything! And Kristin came back and said it was the greatest joke she’s ever heard, but what happens once they’ve really had a chance to look?” 

She felt a glass being pressed into her hands by Kristoff. It looked like a bit of water, but she quickly realized it was a very small amount of aquavit, and she sipped at it gratefully. She took a deep breath, feeling her senses clear with the burn, and she set the glass on the small table. “I mean, I’ve never met my uncle. Not  _ that  _ one.” She shrugged, eyebrows raised. “I have no idea how closely I resemble—”

“Perfectly,” Anna interrupted. “To the smallest detail. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” 

“And what if I let something slip?” Julia’s eyes were panicked again, wide and fearful. It reminded Kristoff of the first real conversation they’d had with her, when she had begged them not to send her away. “They know more. What if I say something, and it’s a dead giveaway? What happens if I say the wrong thing and they know it’s me and they just blurt it out and say it in front of everybody?”

“Jules, honey,” Kristoff said, his voice gentle as he situated himself in an armchair next to them, “I know we said when you were twenty one we could talk about this, but to be honest, the situation has changed. You’re older now, old enough to start making your own decisions. It’s up to you what you want to do. We will support you no matter what. If you feel like now’s the time, now’s the time. You’re safe here, no matter what. You have a roof over your head, and we’ll love you like we always have.”

His tone was matter of fact. Julia knew Kristoff had always harbored the softest spot for her, the abused orphan. He knew a bit of what her life had been like from his own experience, and he’d always been a better father, a stronger figure in her life, than her own could ever have hoped to have been.

But there were the others to consider, now.

“And what if Kristin hates me?” Julia left out Elias. It felt like giving away too much.

Because if Elias hated her, couldn’t forgive her, it would be the worst. She could barely admit it to herself. Maintaining Kristin’s support would be even more important, then. What if she sided with her brother? She’d never really had to choose between Elias and Julia, and it scared her to think about.

“I think she’ll forgive you. And if nothing else, blame us.” Kristoff grinned. “I’m in charge of her allowance.” Then he winked, and she giggled.

“I’m sorry for just barging in here,” she finally said, taking another sip of the strong liquor. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“Actually, we were debating waking you up so that you wouldn’t get blindsighted in the morning if they said anything. I’m sorry you did, anyway.”

“It was only Kristin. But she knows something’s wrong. She just doesn’t know what.”

“Will you tell her now?” Kristoff sounded curious.

“I’m not sure.” She bit her lip, trying to decide how honest to be, and they let her take her time on elaborating.

It had been six years since Kristoff had hoisted her from a snowbank halfway up the mountain, and her life had been a world away from what it had once been, better than she ever could have imagined. Here, she had a family who loved and treasured her, who treated her no differently than she would have been if she’d been born here. Anna and Kristoff were more to her than the family she  _ had _ been born into, and she loved them more dearly than she could ever have imagined possible. Her loyalties ultimately lay here in Arendelle more than in the land of her father and uncle.

But still, she  _ hadn’t  _ been born here.

Kristin may well forgive that, being one of the most forgiving people Julia had ever met. She had been the one to restore Julia’s faith in people, quickly showing her what kindness really was through empathetic words and a few blunt truths. She was the most like her father, but also blessed with her mother’s good nature and ability for grace, and she had been Julia’s salvation in so many ways. It was through Kristin that she had begun to see the goodness in the others.

She saw the kindness in Kristoff’s heart. She came to know Anna as the most fiercely loving person she’d ever met. Oskar was sweet and gentle, and though she could be salty, little Sara was the one with the smile that was almost too dazzling to look at sometimes. Axel and Anita could be a pain, but both were as fierce as their mother in their cores, and it was that love that often led to such strong actions. Anita had been only the second of the siblings to hug her, wrapping Julia in a grip so tight she could scarcely breathe.

Then, there was Elias. Elias, who was kind and thoughtful and had always been so gentle with her, but the same person who so fiercely disliked deception as much as he disliked the Westergaards.

So, where to start? Did she tell Kristin first? How would she even do that? The answer was one that she’d mulled over, almost as one would a fantasy, for the past two days.

Felix.

He was good humored, relatively intelligent, and seemed the most disturbed by her story. Perhaps he would be the most understanding, and a way to practice what she would say to the others. She didn't think it would take much luck to get him to keep her secret, either.

“I’ve thought of telling Felix, maybe. I don’t know. He seems like he might be the easiest one to start with.”

Anna raised her eyebrows at this. “Really?”

Julia shrugged. “He already knows enough. And maybe he could buy me some time, help keep the conversation away from me. He’s already spiked Kristin’s curiosity. Maybe he could damp it back down.”

“You tell whoever you want, whenever it feels right to you,” Anna ordered. “This is your life, Julia. You decide what happens.” Anna smiled a little. “You always have, really. But I think you're right. It's time, honey.”

“I was lucky,” Julia insisted. “I could have ended up anywhere, but here I am. I couldn’t have asked for better. Couldn’t have dreamed it, really.”

“I always wanted to ask,” Kristoff said suddenly, “what you were going to do if you couldn’t find anywhere to go.”

“I had money,” Julia said, and she smiled slightly. “Among other things.”

“What did you ever do with them? The money and the jewels, I mean?”

Julia gave an innocent, apologetic smile. “I may have pulled up a floorboard or two.”

Kristoff laughed at this. “Ah, the old floorboard trick. And if somebody found it?”

“They’d find an old corset and some coins.” Kristoff and Anna looked confused. “The jewels are in the corset. They were sewn on, then I layered more fabric to hide them.” She gave them a wry smile. “Old family trick.”

“Jesus.” Kristoff’s voice was impressed, but he shook his shaggy mane of hair. “Well, I suppose we can’t be mad about that.”

Anna’s arms wrapped around Julia’s shoulders in a warm hug that the young princess leaned into. “We wouldn’t be mad about anything, honey. You know how much we love you, right?” Anna pulled back just enough to stare intently into Julia’s eyes. “You may not be my child by birth, but you’re mine. You’re a part of this family, no matter what happens.”

Julia felt her shoulders relax slightly. “I know,” she said, feeling the honesty in her voice. “You could have sent me home anytime you wanted, but you never did. My uncle tried to kill you,” Julia reminded her, though she knew it wasn’t necessary. “Still, you kept my secret and let me live here, and showed me what a family actually is. Nobody asked you, you just did. I have a real family now.”

She rose, dropping a kiss onto Anna’s brow, leaning up on her tiptoes for a quick kiss to Kristoff’s cheek before he pulled her up off her feet, just like he did Anita.

“Love you, honey,” he murmured, before setting her down.

She smiled, feeling a little lighter, then she started back to her room, closing doors behind her on the way back. She paused outside her bedroom door, hearing Kristin snoring from within. There was no light coming from under any of the doors in the hall, and Julia, still feeling too anxious to sleep, set off to wander the corridors, maybe the garden. 

It was beautiful at night under the lights that glowed overhead. “The sky’s awake,” as Anna would say.

She was surprised to find someone already there. Prince Felix had been lounging on a bench, but he leapt to his feet as she approached. “I, uh, I just couldn’t, uh, I couldn’t sleep, you see, and my brother, he’s out like the dead, you know, I, uh…” He trailed off, and Julia shook her head, amused.

“I’m not going to turn you over to the guard, you know.” She shook her head, smiling. “You’ve already discovered a good place to escape to, I see.”

“Yeah, I just couldn't sleep.” He still seemed nervous, and she frowned slightly.

Julia rolled her eyes. “Really, sir, I’m not going to go running inside screaming you’re out here. No one would care, anyway.”

“I believe you,” he said quickly. “And Felix is fine. You know, instead of sir.”

She felt her eyebrows arch, and he blinked, frowning for a moment before she said, “You don’t look like you believe me.”

“You just don’t seem to like me very much,” Felix blurted. “You barely said a word at dinner. If I said something that bothered or offended you, I really am sorry. I just really, really need you to like me, even just a little bit. If you don’t like me, I don’t stand the slightest chance with Kristin.”

Julia stared back at him in disbelief. “Really? That’s what has you worried?”

“Well, I already know I’m going to have to work hard with Elias. Why would you be any different?” He looked shocked when she laughed outright at his words.

_ Whenever it feels right…  _

Here was her chance. There was no one awake to hear her, to stumble across the carefully woven web of lies she’d helped to craft over the past few years. 

Was it too easy, though? Or was this fate finally throwing her a bone?

Maybe he would understand. Maybe he would be happy to find his long lost cousin. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally get some sleep. Maybe the weight of the world could finally, blessedly, come off her shoulders.

Blinking quickly a few times, not sure now that she thought about it how she was actually upright and hadn’t collapsed, she sized Felix up. He looked confused when she said, “How well can you keep a secret?”

“Why?”

“You answer my question, and maybe I’ll answer yours.”

Felix considered this for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. Then, he spoke. “I can keep a secret. I won't even tell Leo, not if you don't want me to. I guess it just doesn’t make sense why you’d trust a stranger with a secret more than your own family.”

Slowly, Julia crossed to sit on the other end of the long bench. It was long enough for Elias to lounge on, and they were several feet apart as she spoke. “Well, that’s the thing.” She trailed off, looking him dead in the face, willing him to understand. He just stared blankly back with eyes that were the same color, shape, and set as her own.

“I…” Felix shook his head, clearly befuddled. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” Julia drew in a deep breath. “I know your father is a good man, and you seem to take after him. I have to have faith in that, because…” Her chest felt tight.

After a moment, he prompted her softly. “Because?”

“Because I can’t keep doing this.” The words came out in a torrent she couldn’t stop. “I’ve been doing this for six years, and I just  _ can’t _ anymore. I can’t keep lying, but I don’t even know where to begin with…” And just as easily as they’d come, the words halted to a stop.

“I hope you’ll pardon me,” he said slowly, “but what the hell are you talking about?”

“The royal family took me in, more or less raised me.” What next?

“Right, because you’re an orphan.” Felix spoke slowly, as if he were trying to discern something.

Julia laughed bitterly. “I’m not. I have a family. Quite a large one, actually, though I’ve only ever really met one of my uncles. I was very young, and it’s been many years, but he was always kind to me. I think he understood I…” The words felt foreigh on her tongue. “My father wasn't good to me. Uncle Ivor always understood me.”

And to her shock, and somewhat her relief, he suddenly blinked at her. The expression in his face changed, clearing to one of comprehension. “That’s not possible… I was just making a joke…”

“Why wouldn’t it be possible?” Julia raised an eyebrow at him, very deliberately. “And why would I make up such a thing? To claim some title I’ve no need of? I’m the princess of a country that doesn’t exist anymore, and the ward of the royal family of Arendelle. I have more worth with the latter than the former.”

“But…” Felix was perplexed, understanding and shock and disbelief all present at once in the eyes that were exactly like hers, the few hazel flecks exactly like her own, in exactly the same places, all the way around the green irises. “How is that even possible?” He squinted, blinked, then suddenly said, “Let me see your hand.”

Already knowing what he meant, Julia stuck out a hand, thumb extended for inspection. It had the same peculiar bend, one she had never seen on anyone but her father and siblings, then on her Uncle Ivor.

“And if you still don’t believe me, there are other things I can show you.”

Felix looked confused again, then his expression cleared. “Your tiara. They said you trashed it.” Felix regarded her for a long moment. It became clear he needed more convincing. “If you’re really Julia Westergaard of Bergland and not just Julia of Nowhere, tell me how you got out.”

And she told him the entire story. 

How she had been raised as some sort of princess-pauper hybrid; the way she had always been last best, lowest class, but still raised with the trappings and expectations of royalty; the way her father would shove at her back with his foot if she didn’t hold herself “like a Westergaard,” straight backed and proud to all but her father. What good would she be to him if she didn’t know how to carry herself?

How her father had beaten her, the black eyes and bruises and near-broken bones, the way his eyes would flash with inexplicable rage. She recalled one particularly harsh beating, not because she wanted to, but because Ivor had been visiting when it had happened. Ivor had requested a visit with his niece, his position leaving Benjamin no right to deny it, and had questioned the fresh black eye and sprained wrist, wrapped in strips of linen. 

How Benjamin had told Ivor that “the girl was as useless as she was clumsy,” and that she’d fallen down the stairs. She recalled how Ivor had found her later, alone in her room, to question her directly. She’d stared at her shoes for a while before Ivor chivvied the truth out of her, then held her while he whispered how desperately he wished he could help.

How her Uncle Ivor’s kindness had made her think there must be more out in the world, the way he’d hugged her softly, the only person in her family to ever do so, that she could recall. Ivor was the only one who let her cry, patting her back and allowing Julia her grief. He would whisper to her, in those brief moments when no one was watching, that she  _ was _ loved, that should he ever find some way to legally take her away, that he would.

How she had crept out in the dead of night, and how she had sewn coins into the hem of her clothing, how her corset had been laced with the jewels of her tiara. It had taken weeks, but it had been, and would continue to be, an uneventful summer, one she’d spent indoors, watching raindrops fall down the dirty windows of her dark and dingy room. Her father, other than occasionally stopping by to check that she was alive, mostly left her alone. The duke would be visiting in a few months, and she needed to eat more. No one noticed when she hid food that wasn’t perishable in those last few days.

How she had stowed away, hidden in place after place, until she got stuck in a snowbank on a mountain, only to be found by another royal family in the form of the Prince Consort. It had taken little time, with inside knowledge from Ivor, to put together who she truly was and where she actually belonged. 

She recalled the sobbing she’d heard from behind closed doors, the Queen’s anguish over the situation, and the way she had ultimately decided that the only way to get Julia free was to play dirty with Benjamin.

How her own father had never fought to keep her, how the Queen and Prince Consort had taken her in as one of their own, and how they’d kept her safe from any possibility of a return to her former life by keeping her sheltered, quietly, in Arendelle.

Felix stared blankly at her for a long time after she finished. Knowing that she had just thrown the full weight of her entire story, the darkest details of which she had never even bequeathed to Anna and Kristoff, she let him process. Felix was frowning slightly, and her stomach churned for a moment as she was reminded of her father, that distinctively furrowed brow, though the expression wasn’t as angry as her father’s had been.

Finally, Felix said slowly, “Benjamin had a scar above his right eye.” Julia almost smiled at the lack of deference in his tone, refusing to call Benjamin his uncle. “He told people it was from a hunting accident. What was it really from?”

Julia remembered. She’d been in the room, terrified that he would find some way to blame her, even though she had just arrived and was seated unobtrusively in a corner. “He was drunk and he fell. He almost went into the fire, but he got the edge of the poker, instead. It was months before it totally healed, and he was meaner than ever.”

A slight tightening in his jaw gave away Felix’s nerves. “Why did you break your tiara?”

“All the Westergaard women do it when they run.” Julia knew the way she was staring, intense and direct, probably wasn’t calming him in any way, but she needed him to believe her. “Or, they used to. It’s supposedly how they acquired the Southern Isles.”

“And my father. Did he ever tell you what he called it when Hans destroyed our family?” More lack of deference, and it made Julia feel a little lighter.

“He called it ‘The Fracture.’” The words were fresh in her memory, recalling the sadness in Ivor’s face as he’d spoken. “There’s never been  _ that _ many boys,” she recalled, smiling slightly. “It was bound to happen, he said. Too much competition. Didn't make it excusable, but there it is.”

Felix seemed to think again for a moment, then asked the first in a series of rapidfire questions. “How old were you when you ran away?”

“Eleven.”

“Your middle name?”

She narrowed her eyes. He was drilling her. “Isabella Victoria Alexandra.”

“Why would I ask that question?”

“Because my full name was never published. Only the family would know it.” She smiled wryly. “Honestly, I’m surprised  _ you _ do. I’m sure my own siblings never did.”

Felix continued his questioning. “How many images of you were taken?”

“Two. My father had them both burned, and the public never knew of them or saw them.”

“What type of images were they?”

“One was a painting, one a photograph.”

“Who was the painter?”

“Xzavier Hermann. My father made him sign a contract saying he’d never met me, never painted me, knew nothing of what I looked like.”

“Why were the images destroyed?”

“My father said I looked like a common bastard, which never made sense to me. I think he just hated the sight of me that much. I was five at the time. It was right before Uncle Ivor came to the castle, which is probably how you know.”

“And when did you and I last see each other?”

Julia frowned. “But I’ve never met you. You even said that yourself.”

“No, Julia. If it’s really you, think. When did I  _ see  _ you last?” The question seemed to have been carefully worded, and she considered it as she took in the pleading in his eyes.

God, was it possible that he really believed her? Everything was the truth, but she still worried. Now, there was something he was trying to tell her, and she couldn’t figure out. She pressed her mind to think of a time he might have seen her… 

Then it came to her.

“My christening,” she said, stunned. “You would have been at my christening. My father said it was the last time everyone was all together. Except for, you know, Hans. You would have been so young, though.”

“I was, but I remember. I was at the church, but nothing else. Papa sent us away with Uncle Simon as soon as it was over. So, you see, we never met. I just saw you, maybe you saw me, but there’s no way you’d remember that.” Felix huffed out a sigh. “I’m running out of questions. You’re either the greatest imposter I’ve ever met, or you’re really…” He huffed a sigh. “Anything else you can think of to convince me?”

She thought for a moment. “When I get sick, there is a birthmark on my neck that is more clearly visible. It's there when I'm healthy, but it's most visible when I have a fever. Uncle Ivor noticed it once when he visited and I was sick.”

“Where on your neck?”

“The back. Just below the hairline.”

“What is it shaped like?”

She grinned. “Ironically, like a question mark.”

Felix stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “And they know? The royal family.”

“The Queen and Prince Consort know, and the Duchess and a general. The children have no idea. They only know I'm a runaway.”

“I thought the story was you were an orphan.”

“It kept things quieter. There were letters exchanged. I was released to Queen Anna, officially, to settle a debt of my father that was greater than what he’d get for my marriage. Other than that, no one knows. I never needed the jewels or money, so I just hid them.”

“I've seen a painting of that tiara. You still have it?”

“I can show you.”

“What was so special about it?”

Julia sighed softly, staring off into the lights as she recalled. “There’s a particularly sizable emerald at the center. It was honestly one of the least grand that my mother owned, which is how it came to me, but my father still made sure I knew its worth. He wanted me to know, in case we ever had to hide from his debtors.” Julia laughed at the irony as she added, “He wanted me to know how to take it apart and hide it. They would search your pockets, you see, but never a corset. The indignity of it,” she scoffed regally, waving a hand. 

“Wow.” Felix starred up silently at the lights for a long time. She could see that he was searching for more questions, but seeming to find none, finally said carefully, “I’ll need to see it, of course, to validify what you're saying. And I’ll have to write to my father. I’ll send it directly with our courier.”

“Of course.”

“But wow.” He blinked at her again. “The Lost Westergaard Princess, living with the royal family of Arendelle.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she recalled recent events. “Living with Elias, who hates our family. At least, he used to. I wonder if he’ll hate me, too, when he finds out.”

Something shifted in Felix’s green eyes. There had been a slight tightness in the corners, and it faded now with her words. “You don’t  _ really _ think he’d hate you,” he said softly.

“I honestly don’t know. It’s deep-rooted. Something to do with Hans.”

“Bastard ruins everything,” Felix muttered, kicking at a bit of gravel. “Any advice for me on that front?”

“Just worry about Kristin. Elias may hate the Westergaards, but he’ll listen to Kristin almost before their parents. If you win her over, you’ll eventually get him to soften up a bit, I’d imagine.”

A thoughtful look crossed Felix’s face. “I thought he hated me when I got here, but he's been nice ever since. Do you think she said something?”

Julia smiled. “Or something.” It hadn't escaped her notice that, after her conversation with him in this very garden, Elias had been much kinder to their neighbors. Still, she wasn’t at Kristin’s side every waking moment. Such a thing was possible. “You've also helped your own case. You're smart, funny, and have been very respectful to Kristin. Not that she can't hold her own, you understand,” she added, sounding stern.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you break her heart, she might break your nose.”

A laugh escaped Felix. “Don’t incur her wrath. Got it.”

“So long as you understand.” Julia narrowed her eyes. “And know, I'll be the one holding while she punches.”

Felix looked thoughtfully at her for a long moment before saying, “You care about them very much, don't you?”

“They gave me a home. I knew when I met them that I could never be so happy as I could be here.” Julia gestured at the aurora in the sky. “I live in a beautiful country surrounded by people who care about me. I'm happy, nobody knows who I am, and I just get to be ordinary. ”

“But don't you ever miss it?” Felix looked curious. “Being a princess, I mean. If you are actually who you say you are.”

Julia shrugged. “What was there to miss? Being more or less holed up in one room for years? Only being allowed out when no one was around? My marvelous father, who hated me for reasons I never understood?”

Felix frowned slightly, then regarded her with narrowed eyes. “You do understand that if you're lying, I'll have you arrested, right?”

Now Julia laughed. “I'm only surprised you didn't bring that up sooner. But don’t forget,” she reminded him, “you promised not to tell. You breathe a word to anyone other than the Queen or the Prince Consort and  _ I’ll _ have  _ you _ arrested.”

For a while, neither of them said a word. They gazed up at the dancing lights, so different from the night sky where either of them had been born, surrounded by strong, sturdy walls that housed gentle, loving souls.

When Felix finally spoke again, there was some hesitation in his voice. “Benjamin didn't really care for any of his daughters. He was one of those rare Westergaard men who sired a bunch of girls. When he had a son, he was finally happy with one of his children. He thought he'd broken the streak, you see, then he had you.

“He told Papa once he could have loved you, had you been a son. But you were another daughter, an expense that would some day require a dowry. It was why he gave you that tiara. Something of worth that would eventually belong to someone else, just like you. But it’s why he hated you so much. It doesn’t justify anything, but there it is.”

Julia frowned down at her hands. She hadn't dwelled so deeply on her father, or even her blood family, for years. She had repressed a great deal that she didn't care to remember, only caring to dwell on the couple who had replaced her parents. 

“You mentioned that I care for them. I do, very much.” Julia smiled sadly, not meeting Felix's eyes as she continued, “I was rarely afforded that as a child. It would have been nice, though, you know, to have known you then.”

“Papa would have taken you on himself, if there’d been a way and he could have afforded it.” Felix shook his head. “A dozen brothers, eleven of whom were afforded a small cut of Grandfather’s personal money when he died, didn't leave us with much but the Navy and what we get from taxes. He was no great property manager, and my father had to deal with the mess. It’s better now than it was, but things can still get tight.”

“I know. How many of you are there again?” Julia smirked. 

“Seven. Maria’s the only girl.”

At the little wince that accompanied his words, Julia felt a softening of her face. “I’m sorry about your mother. I only heard she had died once I came here. It wasn’t that long before…” She trailed off.

“Thank you. The last few years have been rough on Papa, but we’ve managed. And she gave us Maria before she went, so, there’s that.”

“And she’s well?”

“She’s spoiled rotten,” Felix laughed, his tone affectionate. “She just turned nine last month. The party was mad.”

Julia wondered briefly at being the youngest, beloved for being a daughter rather than despised for it. Felix seemed to notice the shift in her mood, and he sighed softly. “I’ll write to my father first thing. It shouldn’t take too long to get a response. I’ll tell the courier to put it directly into his hands. He’ll make sure it’s done.”

“And you trust him?”

“With my life. Now,” Felix smiled, “we should probably get back inside. It’s late, and we’ve got more to discuss tomorrow.”

“You go. I’m going to stay for a little bit longer.”

And so Julia, the lost and found princess, sat alone in a country that was not her own, staring up into the gently dancing lights in the sky.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia lets someone else in on her past, and Anna finally gets what she's wanted for two decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware there are several tropes I use with frequency. I find them entertaining. Just so you know.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. Work is insane. I'm hearing "The Nutcracker" in my sleep. There may be whoopsies. I tried. I cannot subject myself to a beta. For that, I am sorry. I promise to have it finished before Christmas.

Elsa loved nothing more than showing up unannounced. It was worth it to see her family’s faces light up, and something was niggling at her gut, telling her she was needed. So she rode all night to show up in the morning, leaving her watery steed at the banks of the fjord before making her way up to the castle.

After a warm greeting and Kai saying that most of the family had yet to appear, she made her way upstairs to the family wing. Having no desire to hear any of the goings on between her sister and Kristoff, Elsa wandered toward the children’s rooms, toward the soft murmuring of young voices. 

It was still early, and most of the doors were closed. The door to Elias’s room was open, but on quick inspection, she found it empty. One other, however, was open, and it was the source of the voices. The twins were discussing something, something about “making it up” to their parents, and she crept to the ajar door of Axel’s room, staring for a moment in surprise. 

Several furnishings were missing. There was an empty space where there had once been a desk, and the bed was missing the mattress and pillows, a few errant feathers scattered here and there indicating to Elsa that some great misfortune had befallen them.

Swinging open the door, she inquired, “And just what mischief have you two been up to?” Elsa crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and allowed just the hint of a smile to pull her lips at the identical looks of shock on Axel’s and Anita’s faces.

“Aunt Elsa!” The cries of joy were music to her ears, and she threw open her arms as they raced toward her. The sound of the twins crying out did not go unheard by their younger siblings, and soon, more doors opened, and little Sara’s arms were around her waist, Oskar edging toward her in his careful, almost shy, way.

With no children of her own, Elsa relished in spoiling her nieces and nephews with affection and attention. She made piles of snow to jump into and sled down, freezing the empty floor of the ballroom for skating. 

When they were all sitting on the floor, snuggled up for hugs, Elsa cast another glance around the room. “And just where did your furniture go?”

“They broke it.” Sara’s voice was very matter of fact. “They had the biggest fight they’ve ever had, and Elias and Kristin and Oskar threw them into the fjord! Axel has to sleep on the floor until the new mattress arrives.”

“Oh, really?” Elsa raised her eyebrows, looking between Axel and Anita, neither of whom would now look her in the face. “It seems like the last few times I’ve visited, these arguments have been getting worse. Any reason for it?”

Both twins shrugged, and Elsa made a mental note to discuss it with them further, but at a later time. 

She changed the subject. “Speaking of Elias and Kristin, where are they? And Julia?”

“Kristin and Julia haven’t come out yet, and Elias went riding.” Oskar’s voice was soft as he played with the long tendrils of his aunt’s silvery blonde hair, the color and texture of which matched his own perfectly. “I’m not sure where Leopold and Felix are. They’re staying in another part of the castle.”

“Leopold and Felix?” Elsa felt her face betray her surprise for a moment before she reigned herself in. She only knew of one pair named Leopold and Felix, and they were first and second in line for the throne of the Southern Isles.

Hans’s nephews.

“They’re visiting from—”

“I know Leopold and Felix. Or, I know of them.” She managed a small smile, working hard to keep her feelings from bias. It was pointless to hate them for who they were, even if their uncle had once tried to kill her and Anna both, on the same day. “What are they like?”

“Leopold’s kind of boring,” Sara whispered, her voice becoming conspiratorial. Anita giggled at her little sister. “He just reads and talks about boring things like politics. Felix likes fun things, like games and music.” Her voice raised back to a normal volume as she continued. “They both seem nice, though. I don’t think they’re crazy.”

“Well, thank God for that, because they’re staying here for at least a month.” Kristin’s cheerful voice broke into their little circle, and Elsa rose quickly, beaming, stepping through the younger children to her niece.

Elsa wrapped the girl in a warm hug, wondering at how tightly Kristin hugged her back. Kristin was never one for a weak handshake or an insincere hug, but something about this was different. She radiated a nervous, happy energy, and Elsa wondered at its source.

Behind Kristin, Julia stood, hands clasped in front of her, smiling at the pair of them. Elsa finally managed to let go of Kristin and reached for the other young woman, this one with hair a little too dark and eyes far too green to be related to any of them by blood, but whom Elsa loved no less than the rest. It reminded Elsa not to judge the two princes at all harshly when she knew, deep down and in a way she could not describe as anything but magical, that Julia was true and good, loving and kind, in a way Hans could never be.

Julia, too, clutched her tight, and Elsa felt her reasons were a bit more transparent.

Then Julia whispered, quickly in Elsa’s ear, “They’ve been staying over for the last week. I told Prince Felix. I think he believes me, but he’s been waiting to hear back from Uncle Ivor.”

There it was again, that feeling in her gut. She’d been right to come now, after all.

Elsa could see that Kristin had become distracted with wrangling her siblings downstairs for breakfast, so she whispered back, “Who else knows?”

“Just him, but Anna and Kristoff know I told him.”

“Are you going to tell anyone else?”

“I feel like I need to.” Julia’s eyes wandered to Kristin, who had become more fully distracted by the twins trying to justify the destruction of Axel’s room. “I can’t tell Elias first. He’s going to go through the roof, as it is. I think I need to talk to Kristin first, see what she thinks. I’ve been putting it off all week.”

Elsa pulled back, giving Julia an encouraging smile. “You know you don’t have to do it alone. It might go easier if someone else were there, and I can think of three people who would love to help you.”

“Can you help me now?” Julia glanced at Kristin’s back as she began herding the twins, who were now bickering over the actual cause of their argument, toward the stairs, Oskar and Sara drifting along behind. “It’s just, I have to rip up some floorboards to get the things I hid. Felix wrote to his father, and he got his response last night. He said he’d speak with me this morning, and I promised to show him the jewels. I haven't pulled up those boards for years, because Kristin’s almost always in there when I am. It was hard enough to manage the first time. I’m sure she’ll notice.”

“Who will notice what?”

Elsa noticed that Julia jumped at the sound of Elias’s voice. Neither of them had heard him coming.

“None of your business at the moment,” Julia said airily, lifting her chin and looking down her nose in that decidedly Westergaard way that always amused Elsa. “Just girl stuff. Unless you want to hear about boys and long conversations—”

Elias grimaced, shoving his hands down into his pockets and hunching his shoulders forward. “No thanks.”

“Then go tell Kristin to come back, and get the twins downstairs without killing each other.”

“But I just got up here.” Elias’s whining voice reminded Elsa distinctly of his father and she giggled behind her hand.

“Fine, let your siblings die.” Julia crossed her arms regally over her chest and stood her ground. “You’re the one who’s going to have to explain it to your parents.”

Elias rolled his eyes at the ceiling for a moment, groaned, and turned on his heel. “Wait up,” he called. His siblings paused at the top of the stairs, Sara and Oskar looking on curiously, the twins oblivious, as Elias whispered something to Kristin, shrugged, and sighed at his lot before giving the twins a little shove to get them moving down the stairs again.

Kristin was walking back toward them with a raised eyebrow and a bemused expression. “You’re so weird lately, Jules,” she said, stopping in front of the conspiring pair. Kristin moved her eyes to her aunt, one dark blonde brow raising up to her bangs. “She’s being weird, right? Or am I just crazy?”

Julia gave Elsa a nervous look, and Elsa gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “I need to show you something, Kristin,” she said, reaching forward and taking the younger girl’s hand. “Come on.”

Elsa trailed a bit behind them as they made their way back to their room, smiling as she stepped inside. It reminded her of how she used to share a room with Anna, the arrangement of the beds in the massive space designed to offer both privacy and companionship. 

Over the years since arriving in Arendelle, Julia had become like an older sister to Kristin. They had bonded quickly, Kristin’s good humor and kindness like a flame to the moth that was Julia. She could see the internal struggle in Julia now, sure that Kristin was aware, as well.

“I told you last week I’d explain everything, I just…” She bit her lip. “I really hope you’re not mad at me after I tell you.”

Now Kristin looked perplexed. Her brow furrowed over her brown eyes, which registered confusion in their depths. “Why would I be mad at you? What’s going on? And why is Aunt Elsa here?” She glanced back at Elsa. “I love you, and I’m really happy to see you, I’m just so confused right now.

“I ask a simple question and get a vague, super cryptic answer, then not a word for a week, and now you’re being all weird. You said you’d tell me everything someday, and then you just leave it there? What the hell is that? What does that even mean? And again, what does Aunt Elsa have to do with any of this?” Kristin looked like she wasn’t sure who to address, Elsa or Julia.

Elsa shook her head. “It’s Julia’s story, not mine.”

Long arms waving wildly, Kristin asked, exasperation clear in her voice,“What story?”

Julia took a deep breath. “My story,” she said softly, before walking to the edge of the room.

In a corner, between her vanity and the wall, Julia pressed down hard on a couple of floorboards that popped up with the pressure. The confused look on Kristin’s face didn’t disappear as Julia pulled what appeared to be an old corset and a small knapsack from beneath the floor. Elsa watched as Julia walked back to Kristin, pulling her to sit on the edge of her bed before handing over the items.

Kristin looked between Julia, Elsa, and the things in her lap for a moment before, slowly, she opened the pack. She pulled out first an old child’s pair of mittens and a small cloak. Elsa realized, looking at the fine material, that the warm winter cloak was probably the one Julia had worn when Kristoff had found her—the same one that had given away that she wasn’t just some homeless orphan.

“I don’t understand.” Kristin frowned slightly. “Are these…” She bit her lip. “Were these yours?”

“Keep going. There’s one more thing in there.”

Kristin felt around, frowning at the sound of clinking coins. She produced a purse from a pocket inside that, while by no means large, obviously contained a fair amount of coin. Kristin opened it, peered inside, and her eyes shot up to Julia in shock. “Have you been stealing from my parents?”

At this, Julia rolled her eyes, finally looking a little more like herself. “Of course not. Look at the coins, Kristin.”

Looking concerned, confused, and a little upset now, Kristin pulled a coin from the purse. The upset and concern went away, but the confusion remained as she looked at the unfamiliar stamp on the currency.

“I don’t recognize this,” she said slowly. “Where…” She sifted through a few more coins, finding them all the same. “Where did these come from?”

“Look more closely at the corset.” Julia sounded a little more confident now. “See the extra stitching along the bone there?”

“Yes.” Kristin said the word very slowly.

“It’s extra fabric. Just pop the seams and—”

“‘Pop the seams?’ These things are sewn on like somebody was going to war!” Kristin exclaimed. “I need scissors or a knife or—”

“Here.” Elsa finally felt able to be useful, fashioning a knife from ice in her hand and passing it to Kristin. 

Kristin sliced through a seam and the fabric lifted slightly. From there, it was easier to remove, one panel coming free to reveal several shining diamonds, sewn into rows that ended with a small, perfectly cut and polished emerald. Kristin pulled back her fingers, gasping in shock. “Where did you get these?”

It was quiet for a moment. This was it. Revealing the jewels was the last thing Julia could do to reveal proof of her full truth.

“I brought them with me,” Julia finally said, her fingers tracing over the precious gems that had revealed themselves. “There’s more. Keep cutting, all the way around the front.”

Even Elsa was a little shocked to see how much an eleven year old girl could sew into a corset. She was also impressed as she realized that Julia had been careful in her placement of the precious stones and pearls. They were still in order, and Elsa could see how, when joined by an equally precious setting, the tiara had one been beautiful. The arrangement was centered around the largest of five emeralds, a cut and polished oval that stood out among the others.

And Kristin, wearer of as many tiaras as her mother would let her since she’d turned fourteen, seemed to see it, as well, though her voice was disbelieving. “Julia, what is this?”

Julia was quiet for another long moment. She reached forward, briefly tracing the precious stones with her delicate fingertips. 

“It _was,”_ Julia said, her voice a little sad, “a beautiful tiara. It was my mother’s before it was mine. I hardly wore it. I didn’t have many opportunities. I wore it when my uncle came. I remember that.”

Kristin’s eyes were locked on Julia’s face as she gazed down at the diamonds and pearls and emeralds that, when worn, would have surely brought out the young girl’s green eyes. “Just tell me,” she finally said, and Julia’s eyes shot up to Kristin’s. “Tell me so I can stop imagining things.”

“It’s really you.” The voice from the doorway startled all three of them, and Elsa turned to see Felix. His mouth hung open as he stepped toward them, a folded letter clutched in one hand. “I can’t believe it. You’ve been hiding in Arendelle all this time.”

“Really who?” Kristin sounded frustrated now. “How does Felix know, and I don’t?”

“Because Felix is my cousin,” Julia said softly. She clutched Kristin’s hand, looking nervously again down at their joined fingers. “I’m not an orphan. I never was.” Then she gave a small, bitter laugh. “I am now, I suppose, since my father died. I ran away from him when I was eleven years old. I would have rather died somewhere alone out in the world than stay in Bergland for another day, so I made my plans, stole money from my father, broke my tiara and sewed it into a spare corset, then stowed away on a ship in the middle of the night and was gone by the time the sun came up.”

“And you…” Kristin seemed to be in a deep processing mindset, and Elsa could see the cogs turning. “And you wound up here?”

“I got off the boat in Arendelle but I kept going up into the mountains. Kristoff and General Mattias found me. They didn’t believe that I was some destitute child, but they trusted me enough to take me back to Arendelle.” She laughed softly. “I traded the life of an abused child with only enough royal privilege to keep me alive for being the privileged ward of royalty.” Julia closed her eyes as tears began to leak from the corners. “And I finally had a family here, people who were kind and looked after me, and eventually loved me like I was their own.”

“What if your father found out?” Kristin’s voice was a little scolding, and Julia’s bloodshot eyes opened, blinking quickly. “What if he had come and taken you away? What then?”

“My father knew where I was the entire time,” Julia recalled. “He didn’t care. Your parents didn’t want to send me back to someone who would beat me, to marry me off to someone else who would probably beat me too, and so they took a risk. They offered to forgive a mountain of debt for my father relinquishing his rights to me. Anna still has it hidden somewhere. It’s in writing, though. I’ve seen it. He gave me up to your parents as quickly as he would have married me off, and for a much better deal. There was always a risk, though, that he could change his mind, so it was never spoken of.”

“You…” Kristin’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “You were some deal?”

“To my father, yes. But to your parents, it was always about keeping me safe, even if that meant playing a little dirty. I was to be married to some duke for a lot less than my father owed the Kingdom of Arendelle, and everyone involved knew he was never going to be able to repay that debt. I’m officially a ward of the court, so I could stay anywhere, but they’ve always kept me here, where I would be safest.”

“I can’t believe my parents would even _think_ of something like that.” Kristin sounded a little disgusted, and Julia’s eyes turned pleading.

“Don’t be mad at them,” she begged. “They were furious with my father, and they hated that they were also helping him cover up a lie. My father was not a good man, but he could hide it from the public. The whole family knew what he was really like, though, and Uncle Ivor was far from approving of his conduct.”

“So you’re…”

“I’m Princess Julia of Nowhere in Particular,” she said softly. “Officially, Her Royal Highness Princess Julia of Bergland and the Southern Isles.”

_“Princess_ Julia.” Kristin inhaled sharply, then looked to Elsa. “You knew,” she said, quietly.

Elsa nodded, feeling a little sad but also an overwhelming sense of relief. “I’ve known almost as long as Mattias. Your mother wanted my advice on how to handle the situation.”

“What was your advice?”

“That someone like Benjamin Westergaard, who never plays by the rules, would never fight fair. The only way to keep Julia was to threaten him with further ruin. It was the only way to shut him up, and it worked.”

Elsa worked to keep her face neutral as Kristin glanced back at Felix, who had been watching their exchange quietly, her voice soft and shy as she spoke. “How long have you known?”

“She told me the night my father went back to the Southern Isles. And I haven’t told Leopold,” he added quickly, “or anyone else. Not yet, anyway. It didn’t feel like it was my place. I’m sorry if you’re offended—”

“I’m not offended,” Kristin interrupted, “I’m impressed. You could have used something like that to your advantage, but you didn’t.”

Felix blushed. “She’s family,” he replied, shrugging. He smiled at Julia, holding out a hand. “I'm to tell you that you're welcome to come home any time, but no rush.” Felix handed his letter of to Kristin with what appeared little concern and no thought, almost as if such a thing was automatic for them, already. “I am glad it's you. I was very worried about you.”

Julia took the offered hand, her eyes widening when Felix pulled her in for a hug, long arms wrapping around her shoulders. Kristin read the letter while the reunited cousins embraced, rocking slightly. Elsa couldn't hear the brief words whispered in Julia’s ear, but she sensed the warmth from across the room. Julia fingers fisted in Felix's jacket, and he squeezed back just as tightly. 

“So, you told one member of your family, then me, before anybody else?” Kristin’s eyes turned back to Julia, who nodded, letting go of Felix, but for the corner of his sleeve. Kristin glanced down at the remnants of the tiara again before looking back at Julia, a small, half smile working its way onto her face. “I guess we’ll have to get this reset. Really, you probably should have had it for the ball, being royalty and all.” 

She waved a dismissive hand, and Julia finally giggled before collapsing into Kristin’s quickly extending arms. 

Elsa excused herself after dropping a kiss on each girl’s head, chiding Felix out of the room for the sake of propriety, if nothing else. He looked a little sheepish, but he gave her a small smile as she closed the door.

“Will you tell your brother now?” Elsa asked softly.

“I’m not sure.” Felix frowned a little. “I’m not sure _I_ should, but I don’t know. I’ll have to sit down and talk to her about it, but it can wait.” He shrugged, putting on a smile that warmed his eyes. “I’m sure they’ve got a lot to talk about. It’s more important right now.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“Not really.” He laughed and shrugged helplessly “I really just want to barge back in there and ask a thousand questions.”

“I’m sure they both appreciate that.” Elsa gave him one of her arched looks. “It’s a kindness.”

They parted ways at the end of the hall, Felix to head downstairs and Elsa toward Anna and Kristoff’s door.

The entire family had learned the risks with opening that door, and though it was almost nine, Elsa knew it could still be risky.

But this was important, and it was about _their_ children, so they would just have to deal with it.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

* * *

Anna was doing her level best to keep her eyes open. Kristoff would force her to see the doctor if she kept dozing off, and that was the last thing she wanted right now.

After twenty years of marriage, she had a score to settle, however unspoken. 

“Do you want more coffee?” Kristoff was frowning down at his work as he continued twining her hair through his strong fingers.

“I am _fine.”_ Anna sighed. “We can’t all have a superhuman ability to run on three hours of sleep a night.”

“You slept _ten_ last night.”

“And I’m telling you, it wasn’t enough.” Reaching back, Anna ran her fingers over his arm. “I promise, honey, I’m fine. I don’t feel sick.”

“Tiredness can be a symptom of sickness, is all I’m saying.” The frown did a good job of hiding his genuine worry, but she had a trained eye that could see it from miles away.

Sighing, she started to reach for her powder, but a voice out in the hall ceased her motions. “Anna? Are you awake?”

The voice was loud and clear and it almost made her laugh. It certainly made her happy. Squealing, she leapt to her feet, Kristoff following her with a scowl. “Hold still! I’m almost done!”

“But Elsa’s here!”

“Damn it, Anna, could you at least walk? I’m going to yank your hair out.”

“Come on, your legs are longer than mine!” Anna made it to the door, flinging it open, laughing outright at her sister’s face. It was somewhere between disgust, anticipation, and laughter.

“What are you doing?” Elsa giggled as Anna wrapped her arms around her, Kristoff still braiding, a genuine scowl on his face.

“I do better styling, but Kristoff makes amazingly tight braids.” Anna grinned at her sister as they separated. “They don’t move all day but they’re not too tight, so all I have to do is pin them up and I don’t have to worry about them until it’s time for bed.”

“I do great,” Kristoff interrupted, “but not when you won’t hold still!”

“But it’s Elsa!”

“And I have that stupid meeting, so I don’t have time to fix it.” He huffed, tying it off quickly and letting it drop to her back. Then he turned to Elsa, smiling apologetically. “Sorry I can't stay.”

“Oh, you are just so precious.” Elsa reached up, ruffling her brother’s hair, giggling as he huffed and flushed. “I can’t believe you braid Anna’s hair.”

“That’s it, though,” he insisted, the tips of his ears turning red. “I can tie a good knot and make a tight braid. I’ve had to braid the girls’ hair for years.”

“I thought the nanny did that.”

“She pulled.” Kristoff rolled his eyes. “It was learn to braid little girls’ hair, or fire the nanny.”

Anna could still recall the day a five year old Kristin had stormed into their study one morning, furious at the amount of hair pulling that was happening, which, in the nanny’s defence, was mostly due to Kristin’s lack of ability to sit still. Anna had wrapped her legs around her giggling daughter to keep her still, then quickly braided Kristin’s hair in a simple plait. The next morning, it happened again, but this time, Anna’s hands were covered in ink. She’d walked Kristoff through how to do it, and so began his new career as a professional braider of hair.

“Thank God you learned,” Anna said, grinning. “Would have been a shame to fire the nanny. She was a saint.”

“Speaking of your daughters,” Elsa said, reaching down for her sister’s hand, “Julia told Kristin the truth. She took out her old corset and showed her the tiara. It’s broken down, but she placed the jewels perfectly.”

A quick glance back at Kristoff showed his matching lack of surprise. Julia had told Felix the whole story a few days ago, and it made sense she was telling Kristin next. She was only surprised that it had taken so long.

Still, Anna raised her eyebrows. Even she hadn’t seen Julia’s tiara. The girl had stowed it away years ago, not wanting to look at it. “What did it look like?”

“Oh, Anna, it’s beautiful. You’ll have to talk to her about getting it reset. Kristin made a joke about it, but it’s a shame to see it in pieces.”

“But what did it _look_ like?” Anna couldn’t help it. She was a whore for a good piece of jewelry. Elsa grinned, and Kristoff rolled his eyes, both of them seemingly realizing that was the truth behind the question.

“It’s a lot of diamonds, some pearls, and the most beautiful emeralds I’ve ever seen.” Elsa raised her eyebrows. “I’m actually surprised Benjamin didn’t ask for it back.”

“He wouldn’t have dared,” Kristoff said. “I think he was a little scared of Anna.”

“Well,” Elsa said, giving her sister a onceover, “she is very frightening.”

Anna stuck her tongue out before turning, dragging Elsa into the apartment and pushing her toward the little sitting area. She proceeded to plop down at her vanity, returning powdering her face to a smooth finish.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Anna said, smiling back at Elsa, where the blonde woman had deposited herself into an armchair. “It’s been too long. You missed the big party.”

Elsa grimaced. “All those diplomats and royalty? You don’t want a former queen around for that.”

“Still,” Anna said, not wanting to admit that Elsa was probably right, “I’m glad you came now. I have a feeling this whole thing’s about to blow, and I could use you.”

Behind her, Anna could see Kristoff in front of the free standing mirror just outside the dressing room. He was scowling still, this time at a cravat. He had a meeting with the council this morning to discuss some differing views on a road project. The stupid, petty arguments on who should benefit from the land use were getting under his skin, and slowing down the ice harvesters getting into town. They were getting on her nerves, as well, but she didn’t have time today to meet with them, so he was doing it for her.

In all honesty, they both knew that anytime she involved Kristoff in the running of things, arguments miraculously ceased and compromises were met. The ice trade brought in a substantial income for Arendelle, and he was quite adept at making them see that after twenty years in his position.

Still, he was a man in a man's world who managed to remind other men who was _really_ in charge. There were lots of things he’d learned to do for her over the years, and though she knew he didn’t always enjoy it, he seldom complained. Kristoff was the silent pillar holding her up, supporting her with a mere raised eyebrow and wave of a hand when anyone dared disrespect her. He was the man who reminded the rest of the men in the room that Anna’s sex was merely a matter of fact. She was a woman, but that didn't mean she was to be trifled with. She was to be respected as someone who could both run her country and give it an heir. 

It also meant mastery of things like tying a cravat, somebody she found oddly attractive. Anna watched as Kristoff pulled the fabric over and under with quick hands, just like she’d taught him years ago when he’d first arrived at the castle and realized, with panic, that he had no idea what he was doing.

Oh, the things those hands could do. 

“It amazes me,” Elsa said, shaking her head, “how good you’ve gotten at that.”

Kristoff blushed, pulling on the jacket and rolling his shoulders to even out the fabric. “Thanks.” Finished, he sighed heavily at his reflection and Anna gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’ve got to go. See you for dinner?” he asked Elsa.

“Oh, I think so.” Elsa smiled as he crossed to drop a kiss on her head. “I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to leave for a few days, at least.”

Kristoff laughed before crossing to where Anna sat. A quick glance in the mirror showed both of them that Elsa had suddenly become very interested in the view out the window and that her back was turned. He captured her lips in a kiss that was warm and lingering.

“I love you,” he murmured. “You tell me if you need a break, okay? I’ve got time after this meeting for whatever you need.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, knowing it was true, but still waiting to see if he would figure it out, because she was pretty sure he was clueless.

In twenty years, _that_ had never happened, and she wanted to revel in it a little.

Once he was gone, Elsa immediately turned to look at her. “What was he talking about?” Her blue eyes were narrowed.

“Nothing.” Anna put the final pin in her hair, staring into the mirror for a moment. She looked alright, she supposed. She was only a little pale, the bags under her eyes carefully hidden with makeup. Elsa seemed to know Anna wasn’t going to give anything away and she turned her gaze back out the window.

For a few minutes, Anna tried to decide whether she should take Kristoff up on his offer and try to get a few extra hours of sleep this afternoon. She didn’t realize she was starting to doze already until she felt a cool hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.” Anna sat up straight and blinked rapidly, forcing herself quickly to awareness. “Hey, little sister, you okay?”

“I’m _so_ tired.” Anna dramatically threw up her hands, finally giving in. “All I want to do is sleep. And I can’t tell Kristoff, because it’s harvest season and he has to help oversee the exports.”

“Why can’t you tell your husband you’re tired?” Elsa frowned. “Spring is busy, he understands that.”

Anna sighed heavily, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “I just _can’t!”_ Huffing out another sigh, she rose to her feet, needing to stand so she didn’t fall asleep. “If he hasn’t figured it out yet, then maybe I finally got one over on him.”

Elsa looked perplexed. “I don’t understand.”

Anna glanced at Elsa for a moment before quickly going to the door to open it and peer both ways down the hall before she closed it again. No one in sight, so no one to hear.

“I mean, really, it could be one of two things. It could be nothing. I’m getting older, you know, and I’ve been through a lot and I’ve had six kids and I’m well past the age where women normally have kids, you know, so maybe I’m just shutting down. You know what I mean?” She shrugged helplessly, and Elsa nodded. “Things haven’t really been… regular for the last few years. So I guess I just figured, hey, shutting down now, no big deal, happens to every woman, right? And sometimes, that makes you tired, or so I’ve heard.”

“Anna,” Elsa said slowly, “is that what you think it is?”

Anna glanced over her shoulder at the closed door for a moment before turning back to her sister. She shook her head, watching Elsa’s eyes widen. “But Kristoff _always_ knows when I’m pregnant before I do, and if I’m as far along as I think, either he hasn’t noticed, or he’s not saying anything, which he’s never done before. I mean, he keeps it to himself for a couple days at most, then he just _has_ to tell me.” The rambling speaking and exhaustion were winding her, and she paused to catch her breath.

“Anna, take a deep breath.” Elsa crossed to her sister, taking her hands and leading her to the chaise in front of the small fire left over from the night before. “Have you seen the midwife? Do you have any symptoms?”

Anna rolled her eyes. She didn't need the midwife to tell her what she already knew. “I’m pretty sure, Elsa. I’ve had six already. And…” She trailed off, wringing her hands together. “I’m just starting to get a little thicker around the waist. Kristoff hasn’t said anything. I thought I had just put on a little extra weight lately, with the ball and the preparations for it and everything else going on. But it’s not. I sleep ten hours a night and fall asleep on my feet, my breasts _hurt,_ and any time I smell roses, I feel like I’m going to be sick. There’s also the bacon addiction I had with the boys that seems to be back full force.”

“Oh, my God, Anna!” Elsa’s hands were clasped over her chest, her expression somewhere between disbelieving and overjoyed.

“Elsa, I’m over forty! How is this even possible?” Elsa cocked an eyebrow and Anna flushed scarlet. “Shut up, don’t answer that. I just mean…” Anna sighed. “It’s been ten years. Why now?”

Elsa shook her head. “It happens. Not often, but it can. I’ve known several of the Northuldra women who have gone years without babies, then one day, they just show up.” The blonde chuckled. “So, you won’t tell Kristoff, because you’re waiting to see if you won a bet with yourself?”

“Pretty much.”

They were interrupted by the sound of the hall door crashing open and heavy, running footsteps. The door flew open, revealing a wide-eyed Kristoff. “Anna! Oh, my God, I just realized something!”

“Oh?” Maybe he’d realized he had the wrong time for the meeting, but she doubted it. She knew that look, the excited glint in his brown eyes.

“You’re tired,” he said, crossing to her side in a few long strides. “Tired, like, _all_ the time! And, you took bacon and wrapped it around a brick of cheese last night! I was half asleep, I didn’t even realize—”

But Anna held up a finger, a wide smile crossing her face. “No! Oh, no, you don’t! I realized it first! I’ve known for _days!”_ She was beaming as his mouth hung open. “I knew it before you this time! Ha!” Anna planted her hands on her hips, grinning from ear to ear at his astonished expression. 

“Not fair!” he finally spluttered.

“How is it not fair?”

“You have an unfair advantage,” he stuttered. “You can feel it growing!”

“Oh, come on!”

Elsa was laughing as she hugged them both. “Congratulations,” she said, then winked. “Again. I’m going to find Kai.”

Anna frowned. “You just got here. So much has happened, and I've got so much to tell you!”

Elsa smiled softly, her hand on the frame of the open door. “I need to sort out my room, have some clothes taken out of storage. I have a feeling I’m going to be here for a while.”

Then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she was gone, leaving Anna alone with her gaping husband.

“This never happens,” Kristoff said, running a hand through his coiffed hair, effectively ruining it and making himself significantly more dashing, in her opinion. “I always know first.”

“In your defense,” Anna said, smiling as she led him to sit on the edge of the bed, “it’s been a while. How were you supposed to expect this?”

“But still.” His hands found her waist, running across her abdomen softly to feel the soft bump there. “If nothing else, how did I miss _this?”_

“I only just noticed it myself the other day,” Anna laughed. 

His hands dragged up her sides, catching her hands on his forearms and dragging them along as they made their way to her face. For a while, he just stared at her, brown eyes blazing with love. She stared back, her smile spreading, head cocking off to the side.

Then, he finally spoke. 

“No wonder you’re so damn tired.” He huffed with laughter and she giggled. “You kept saying with Sara, ‘This is the _last_ time, because I’m _exhausted.’”_ He grinned. “Remember? You said you were too old. Not that you were, or are now.”

“Oh, to be thirty again,” Anna groaned, leaning heavily against his chest. He was sturdy and warm, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You’ll do great.” His lips were warm against the top of her head, and they lingered. “You always have.”

“Are _you_ up for it?” Anna raised an eyebrow. “It’s been ten years since you’ve had to juggle a baby and work.”

“I think it’ll come back to me.” 

“I’m _pregnant,”_ Anna said, her voice disbelieving even to her own knowing ears.

“I know.” He laughed, pulling her into his lap so he could wrap his arms around her waist, his hand resting on her belly again. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really, but still.”

Anna rested her head against his shoulder. “What if something goes wrong?” she asked softly. She _was_ older now, and while she’d managed being pregnant with Sara just fine, it had felt different, much more exhausting, than it had when she’d had Elias almost a decade earlier. What if she wasn’t cut out for it anymore?

“We have the best midwife for miles at your beck and call.” Kristoff kissed the tip of her nose, holding her a little more tightly. “She’ll probably want you to take it easy, but you’ve been fine every other time.”

“Except for Anita.” Anna’s voice was soft.

Anita had been the second of the twins to arrive, and she had been born breach. Fortunately, Mrs. Jensen, the midwife, had seen it coming and had known what to do. It hadn’t been easy, and it had been a terrifying minute before Anita started shrieking along with her brother, but she’d made it and grown to thrive.

Kristoff seemed to be thinking the same thing. “And Anita is just fine now. I just heard her squabbling with Axel over breakfast. I know it was scary, but Oskar came out like a breeze—”

“Oskar came like a bat out of hell.”

At this, her husband chuckled. “Exactly. Quick and easy.”

“How was that easy?” Anna raised her eyebrows. “He showed up before the midwife, and you had to deliver him!”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Sure, he said that now. At the time, Kristoff had been terrified that he would somehow break the baby before he even made it out, but he’d caught Oskar’s tiny head, cradling the newborn in his large hands just as Mrs. Jensen had burst into the room, shock, and a little pride, clear on her face.

“You really think everything is going to be okay?”

“I can feel it in my bones.” The scruff of his beard was rough against her cheek, but she loved the sensation. It was oddly comforting. “You’re going to do great, and the baby’s going to be just fine.”

“Keep telling me that,” Anna murmured. 

“Every day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She’d hold him to it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A master of deception causes a split in Arendelle's royal family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should have mentioned before, but Hans is not the good guy here. Maybe I'll write that someday, but for purposes of this story, I needed a villain. He does some pretty awful things, and we're starting to see that here. 
> 
> There's pregnant smut up front. It's referenced. You were warned. Skim to the middle if you're at work or that's not your bag. Also, some familial fighting toward the end.

Everything felt so surreal.

Anna let her eyes drift closed as she rested her head against the edge of the tub. It had been three weeks since Elsa’s arrival, since telling Kristoff he was going to be a father again, and everything that had followed since had been alternately slow and abrupt.

Julia still hadn’t told anyone but Felix and Kristin the truth about her past, but she seemed to be trying to prime herself for it. Anna knew Julia was nervous about telling Elias, with his past history of hating anything to do with the Westergaards, in addition to whatever other feelings she held for him.

But he had been increasingly warm toward Felix, seeming to be resigned to his sister’s rapidly growing affection for the prince, and willing to put aside differences out of love for her.

Still, Kristin had whispered her worries that putting aside his feelings toward Felix would be nothing compared to what Elias would be asked to forgive once he found out there had been a Westergaard under their roof, all along. He would focus on the lie, she insisted, but Kristin knew Julia’s parentage, out of her control as it was, would still trouble him more, and that troubled Anna.

Where things with Julia had been moving slowly, she felt Kristin and Felix were moving at lightning speed. Anna couldn’t criticize—she’d known she wanted Kristoff for the long haul just as quickly. Still, it made her head spin to watch her daughter fall in love with a young man who, by all accounts, was fitting in with their family very nicely.

Felix didn’t just manage to get on well with Elias, but enjoyed the presence of the younger siblings, as well. He was kind to Oskar, playful with Sara, and could manage to smoothly get the twins to not only stop fighting, but to apologize and drop whatever subject for the rest of the day. 

Anna could see that he tried not to treat Julia any differently, but Anna knew Felix felt a strong sense of responsibility and love for his blood cousin. He had helped Anna decide how best to restore Julia’s tiara, recalling the silver and gold weave that had held the jewels in place. It was quietly being rebuilt by the jeweler in town the family had used for years, who had marveled at the perfection of each precious gem.

But toward Kristin, he couldn’t seem to help himself from showing favoritism.

He always seemed to have some little treat for her hiding in a pocket—a wrapped truffle, a piece of taffy, a chunk of her favorite dark chocolate. He accompanied her fishing, and had even traversed up the mountain with her and Kristoff a few times. Kristoff declared himself impressed, sounding both heartbroken and hopeful when he’d confessed this to Anna.

Anna forced her eyes to open. She’d been near to dozing. It wasn’t terribly late, the summer twilight not yet set in, and Kristoff wasn’t due for a few hours yet, so she hauled herself out of the bath, toweling off before wrapping herself in a robe. Maybe just a nap, and she could wake up, change into something she hoped he’d find enticing, and wait for him.

Instead, she fell asleep, feeling herself jolt awake as the door closed softly. She could feel that her hair had started to dry into a wild mess, and she worked to shake herself awake and straighten herself out at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” Kristoff grimaced as he stepped away from the door. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“I was awake,” she insisted, but he just laughed.

“I could hear you snoring through the door.”

“I wasn’t snoring.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing, “you were.”

He crossed the room to the bed, still chuckling as he sat down at her side. He was more casually dressed today, dark trousers and boots with a loose summer shirt under a light vest. He was so ruggedly handsome, she could feel her breath catch in her throat. 

“Well,” she said, scooting a little closer, “I’m awake now.”

“But are you  _ really _ awake?” he teased. “Or am I just some amazing dream?”

“You tell me.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, feeling his encircle her back as she leaned into him, pressing her lips hotly against his. She maneuvered herself onto his lap, straddling him, forgetting for a moment that she was only in a robe. She blushed. “I must be a mess right now.”

“I just think you look beautiful.” His eyes were warm as he stroked back her hair. “Wild and beautiful. It suits you.”

“I’m getting thick.”

“Stop it. I love you pregnant.”

“I know,” she retorted wryly, “you’ve put enough babies in me for a small army.”

“You don’t regret it, though, do you?”

Anna pushed his messy hair away from his imploring eyes. “Not for a minute. I wouldn’t want anything different. I still can’t believe sometimes it’s all real, and it’s all mine. It’s ours. We did it together.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re going to cry.”

“Then distract me,” she whispered.

A moment later she was being lowered carefully onto her back as she giggled, his hands loosening her robe and tickling at her sides. Then her laughter turned to sharp cries and soft moans as his fingers made their way between her thighs. She spread herself beneath him as he kissed her, pushing hurriedly at his vest. He only broke away to pull his shirt over his head, and she felt his warm muscles, still well defined from a life spent on his feet and in as much physical activity as he could find, under her fingertips. They flexed and coiled as he held himself above her, letting her hands loosen the sash at his waist. At some point, he’d kicked off his boots, and she was able to push everything down in one motion, and soon, he was bare with her.

As if reading her mind, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sat up, hands braced on his strong chest, straddling his thighs as his hands brushed her sides. One traveled to her thigh to grasp it firmly while the other ran gently over her belly. She was clearly showing now, and she had loved the looks of surprise that had accompanied her announcement. Kristoff was more protective this time around than he had been in the past, staying closer than he had with Sara, who, after a decade spent as the youngest, had screamed with joy at the news.

The midwife had recommended a little less time at her desk and a little more time relaxing this time around, and Kristoff took that seriously. His face was serious now as he stared up into her hers.

“You sure you’re not too tired?”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Are  _ you?” _

“I’m tired,” he conceded, smiling, “but I’m not dead.”

“Good.” Reaching down, she wrapped a hand around his hardened flesh. His breath picked up as he watched her hand’s movement. “Because I’ve got plans for you tonight, honey.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Big plans. But you have to stay awake.”

Kristoff chuckled darkly, reaching up to cradle her cheek in his hand. “I can do that. Anything else you need me to do?”

“Stay there.” She slid down his thighs, watching his eyes darken as his pupils blew until they were almost completely black, just a thin ring of brown around them.

“Anna, you don’t have to do that,” he murmured, though he made no move to stop her.

“I want to,” she reassured him. “You deserve it.”

“I don’t— _ oh.”  _ He was cut off as she slid her lips slowly over his tip, ever so slowly, all the way to the base. She felt one of his hands in her hair as she relaxed into him, feeling his legs already quivering slightly as she began to bob her head. She worked her tongue around him, watching him closely as he groaned, one hand fisted in the sheets next to them. “God, baby, you look… oh, God.”

She released him with a pop, but continued stroking him. “How do I look?”

“Jesus, Anna, your ass in the air like that…” He groaned again as she flicked her tongue over his tip, liking his tone and wicked words.

“Keep talking,” she murmured, taking him back in her mouth.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful like this, Anna. My baby’s in your belly and my cock is in your mouth, and  _ Jesus,  _ do I want to fuck you.” She raised her eyebrows at him as she slowed down. “But I don't want you to stop, either. It’s fucking purgatory.” She laughed around him, continuing until his thighs were shaking and his knuckles were white around the sheet.

“Now,” Anna whispered. She climbed up the mountain that was her man, grasping him firmly in her hand. She braced against him again as she sank onto him, impaling herself in the most beautiful way. Kristoff propped himself up for a moment, his long body leaning around her swollen belly with ease, pressing his lips against hers for a moment before going for the soft skin behind her ear. “God, I love how big you are,” she groaned, feeling her head fall back.

One arm wrapped around her waist, warm and comforting. He chuckled, the sound low and dark. “Do you now?” He shifted his hips under her, thrusting up into her warm body

Anna could feel the stretch that she always felt as she accommodated him. Pregnancy made her especially sensitive, and Kristoff always took advantage. He pressed up, aiming deep, making her eyes roll back.

“You know I—oh, God—you know I do.” His thrusts were sharper now, and she let him take control of their lovemaking. “You know how good you make me feel.”

“Do I?” His voice was teasing.

“Shut up.” She gave his shoulder a light slap, trying to damp down a smile, sure she was failing.

“Well, you haven’t told me tonight.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“But you love me.” And Kristoff, to her fury and flaring desire, lay back against the pillows, propped his hands behind his head, smirking from under his beard.

She glared at him for a minute before grinding down onto him. “You don’t need me to tell you how good you make me feel, baby,” she crooned, swaying on top of him. If he wanted to play, she’d play. And dammit, she would win. “You know how your cock feels when it stretches me out. I’ve told you, it’s like that perfect morning stretch, when you feel it in your whole body. Only better because, well, you know.”

Anna grinned as Kristoff huffed, his hands landing on her thighs as she rubbed their bodies together. She reached for one of his hands, pulling it to her clit. He began working at her with his thumb, eyes narrowed almost to slits. She gave an appreciative moan, the sound ripping from her body like an animalistic growl. 

“Know what makes it even better?” she continued. Kristoff seemed unable to speak, and he shook his head, grunting softly. “The thing that makes it the best, that puts the cherry right on top, is that I know how good it makes  _ you  _ feel, baby.” She ground down onto him, watching with a smirk as his eyes rolled back in his head. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” 

Another grunt, another nod, but it wasn’t enough for her this time. Anna was close, herself, and she knew whatever would come out of his mouth would help push her over. “Tell me,” she ordered, and she slowed slightly.

His eyes blew open instantly, and she was further aroused by the expression in his eyes. His eyes were as dark as she had ever seen them. It was almost menacing, but there was longing there as they gazed into hers. She brushed his hair from his face as he whispered, “Yes, baby.” Kristoff’s voice was tight, the muscles in his neck straining. “God, I’m close. Fuck, I’m right there,” he moaned as her hips resumed their movements.

His hands had never stopped on her, and Anna felt her eyes rolling back as her orgasm began a long, slow roll through her body. She arched atop him, reaching back to give a soft tug to his sac, and he was done.

Declarations of love and her beauty tumbled from his lips as his arms grasped her waist, holding her upright. She hadn’t realized she was starting to sag against him. Anna could feel the shift in gravity as he maneuvered her very carefully onto her back and pulled gently out of her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before climbing out of bed. How Kristoff could just get up and walk after sex was something she had never understood, but she never complained, because it meant that he so often diasppeared for a moment to reappear with a soft, damp cloth and a cool glass of water. 

Anna dozed while her husband gently wiped sweat and other bodily fluids, some his, some hers, some mixed, from her heated flesh. He managed to get her under blankets and she heard him moving around the room to turn off lights and bolt the door. She finally opened lazy eyes at the sound of the heavy metal sliding into place, smiling at her husband, feeling slightly drunk, even though she was completely sober. He sauntered back toward their bed, his exposed skin golden in the light from the one remaining candle, clearly admiring her lying in their bed, the covers over her waist.

He slid in next to her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her nude body closer to his. He pressed his lips to her forehead, leaving them there for a moment before pulling away only enough to whisper, “God, I love you like this.”

“Hmm?” Anna let her eyes drift closed, inhaling deeply the scent of sweat and musk and something that was distinctly Kristoff.

“Right after, when you get all sleepy.”

“Well fucked,” she muttered against his chest, and he chuckled. “You’re the one that said it, not me.”

“I said it  _ once, _ and it was over ten years ago.”

“And I won’t let you forget it.” She smiled sleepily as she recalled that evening.  _ Well fucked  _ had, in fact, been the best way to describe how she’d felt, cheek against the ground. She was pretty sure somewhere in those several days, they'd made Sara.

Kristoff chuckled, reaching down to take her hand and rest their joined fingers against her belly. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Anna was drifting off, nearly asleep, when she felt it. Her eyes opened immediately when she heard Kristoff gasp, letting go of her hand to press his more fully against her stomach. Anna giggled at the sensation, loving the familiarity of having no question of what she could feel under her skin.. 

She gave her belly a little rub as she spoke. “Well, hello!” She could see Kristoff’s face out of the corner of her eye. His face was intent and enraptured as he felt with her the flutters from her belly. “You feel like more of a kicker than a dancer.”

“You think it’s a boy?” Kristoff's voice was full of wonder.

“Mmhmm.” Anna swore the boys had kicked at her all through her pregnancy, while the girls had stretched and moved more for their own comfort than their mother’s, often sitting more heavily on her bladder. “Won't know for sure until he or she decides to come out.” She sighed heavily as the flutters continued. “Halfway there.”

“We made a baby.” His face was awestruck as he traded his fingertips over her belly. “There's a life in there, Anna.”

She giggled. “You do this every time.”

“Because it's amazing every time. You're amazing.”

Kristoff kissed the side of her head and held her close as the sensation of the tiny life inside her lulled them to sleep… 

The next day made her glad she’d enjoyed such a relaxing evening the night before.

Breakfast was the usual affair. Now used to the visiting princes, the children were their usual, boisterous selves. Anna was nearly through her plate, about to start her day, when Kai came rushing in, looking flustered.

“There is an envoy from the Southern Isles, ma’am,” he said quickly. The sound of boot steps hurrying down the corridor was distinct and getting closer. “I told him you were at breakfast, but he insisted he bring a message for the young princes,” he continued, nodding toward Leopold and Felix. A small frown creased Leopold’s brow, and it was mirrored by his younger brother, who pushed back his chair and rose from the table.

A man, well dressed if not a little ruffled from what must have been a rushed voyage, stepped into the room. He immediately addressed Anna, bowing low.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice low, his face not visible at the moment with the depth of the bend of his knees. “I am Joseff, Your Majesty. I am in charge of the household of His Majesty, King Ivor. I beg your forgiveness, madame, but I am ordered to deliver this letter with the utmost haste to my princes.”

Anna glanced at Felix, who seemed relieved at the sight of the man, before speaking. “Stand up, Joseff.” 

Joseff looked relieved as he also followed Felix’s movements. Felix was already stepping toward Joseff, who immediately handed over a rather thick envelope. Felix immediately returned to the table, sitting down as close to Leopold as he could so he could read over his brother’s shoulder.

Whatever they read initially made Leopold’s face drain of blood, while causing Felix to turn red, eyes narrowed at the page.

“We should not read this here,” Leopold said, tucking the letter away in his jacket. He pushed away from the table, face still pale, and rose. Felix followed, frowning.

“They’ll hear anyway,” Felix began to argue. “Whatever else is in there, we’re not hiding _ that.” _

“Of course not.” Leopold sighed. “That’s not what I mean. It is sometimes prudent to allow oneself time to think. And we don’t want to ruin anyone’s breakfast.”

“I can think,” Felix muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking annoyed.

“Well, I’m finished.” Anna rose, and her family rose with her before she rolled her eyes, waving them back down. They never rose when it was just family, but with their now-familiar visitors, they could still be quite the perfect royal children. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not, Your Majesty.” Leopold gave her a small bow of thanks. He glanced at his brother, seeming to share some look she couldn’t decipher, then turned to the envoy. “How long are you to remain, Joseff?”

“I am to remain until Your Highness gives me orders.” Joseff gave another bow, but it didn’t escape Anna’s eye that it seemed slightly more casual. It reminded her of Kai, though the envoy was half the age of her overseer. “After reading the letter, of course. I’m under your father's orders until then.”

“Of course.” Leopold actually cracked a smile, surprising Anna. “I understand, Joseff. And while we do that, why don’t you go find yourself something to eat?”

Anna watched, amused and impressed, as Joseff turned now to Kai, bowing again in deference to the man he had likely brushed by just a few minutes ago. “Perhaps, sir, you could permit me to apologize for my rather hurried entrance. It was my king’s wish to reach his sons as quickly as possible, and so I came on a fishing boat. It was the fastest way here, you see. I would never appear so disheveled before a monarch were I not so determined in my mission, nor be so rude to one who serves her so loyally as you. Can you forgive me?”

Kai had now calmed down, and also seemed taken with the decorum of his young counterpart. Anna was sure Kai also saw the nervousness in the young man’s demeanor. If he was putting on an act, he was working very hard. “I understand, sir. I would do the same for my queen, to be sure.” Anna smiled warmly as he continued. “If you come with me, I can take you to the kitchen. Perhaps we can also find a chance for you to freshen up.”

“I would greatly appreciate it, sir. Thank you.” He bowed low again, making Kai chuckle.

“Perhaps,” Kai said, mirth in his voice, “Your Majesty would be so kind as to show the princes to the library?”

“No,” she said, making Leopold and Felix stop. “We’ll be in my study. There’s more privacy.”

“I’ll come with you.” Kristoff set aside his napkin, pushing away his own plate which, Anna noticed, was empty. He always kept pace with her at the table, he had once teased, the better to keep up with her throughout the day. “Just in case you need anything.”

Both of the young men seemed to relax on hearing this. It comforted Anna that the brothers had learned to trust them so easily. The reality was that both men would be in their lives for the foreseeable future. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least to see a proposal from Felix before the year was out, and Leopold would one day take over for his father, who was quite a bit older than Anna, though he had waited much longer to marry and produce children. Anna would do business with Leopold, set things up just right for Elias to one day take the reins. 

Once in her study, things went from simple curiosity to real concern.

Anna sat on the couch with Kristoff while the boys poured over the letter on her desk. It was long, and Anna became more and more curious as the occasional exclamation or soft whisper was exchanged between the two brothers.

“I can’t believe this.” Leopold’s soft mutter sounded horrified.

_ “That bastard,” _ whispered under Felix’s breath.

There was a pause while they read on.

Then, in a breathless voice of shock, Leopold whispered, “She’s  _ who?” _

“It’s true.” Felix’s voice was low. “I was thinking of telling you soon, I just wanted to make sure she was ready. It is her, absolutely. I wrote to Papa and he confirmed it. There’s too many coincidences, too many things she knows, and then there’s the tiara.”

“And you never thought to tell me?” Leopold sounded more hurt than angry.

“I’m sorry, Leo.” Felix’s voice held sincerity, but no regret. “With everything we know about her, could you do that to her? Could you force her forward before she was ready?”

Leopold sighed softly. “No.”

“See? Sometimes I think before I do something nuts.” Felix rolled his eyes, and Leopold chuckled before turning back to the letter, both of their faces quickly becoming grim again.

In that instant, Anna knew it was really and truly bad news. Judging by the dark look that crossed his face, Kristoff knew it, too. They could only be talking about Julia. If Ivor was writing to the princes with the truth about her without any warning, something had gone terribly wrong.

It was a long while before either of the boys spoke again. When one of them did, it was Leopold. He spoke with conviction as he said, “Well, that settles it. You go put it to her while I inform the Queen and Prince.”

Felix was out the door like a shot, and Leopold turned to them, his shoulders now sagging under the weight of new knowledge. He leaned forward, fingertips to the top of her desk, head hanging with a furrowed brow. 

“I don’t quite know where to start,” Leopold said slowly. He shuffled the pages of the letter, making sure they were in order, before rounding the desk. “I suppose it would be easier just to let you read the whole thing.”

There was a low armchair in the corner, and he settled there heavily after handing her the letter, which Anna noticed was addressed to Leopold.

Anna immediately recognized Ivor’s distinctive hand, and she read, certain passages jumping out at her more than others.

_...unknown how he managed it, but I believe he bribed his guard. In any case, the guard is gone, and the body we exhumed was not, in fact, that of my youngest brother. It wasn’t Hans they buried. He took advantage of my absence and, with no members of our family left in the castle, was able to find a man with a strong resemblance to go under in his place. I’m informed the man is a local villager, a drunk who frequents the tavern and who was reported missing some time ago. The doctor sees clear signs of poisoning, of which I’m sure Hans is capable… _

_...while I never agreed with Benjamin, I felt there was nothing I could do to help the poor child. So imagine my relief upon finding she had fallen into the laps of our dear neighbors, and my further joy when they offered, quite selflessly, to take her in. I’m sure you are, by now, acquainted with the family's ward, a Miss Julia Olsen. You will not need to look closely to see the resemblance, if you have not already, to your cousin, Julia. They are, in fact, one in the same…  _

_...I have always been soft for the girl. I could not help but ask for information over the years, and more than once sent our courier to Arendelle to take and receive news that is too sensitive for a simple letter. I have always kept them hidden, but Hans somehow discovered them, no doubt while rifling through my study for anything he could use, and they reveal her location in frank detail…  _

_...to come home as soon as you can, and to implore your cousin to join you. I understand there may be affairs to settle before you leave…  _

_...forgive me, forgive us all… _

_...extra guards for your safety… _

_...no guarantee Hans is, in fact, still on the Isles. Simon has found no trace…  _

_...come home, please, my son…  _

“My cousin,” Leopold said, his voice breaking. “My cousin Julia, alive all these years. Alive and hiding in very plain sight. How she was never discovered baffles me.” He shook his head. “Felix and I have long since thought she must be dead somewhere, but our father always seemed to have hope. And of course he did. He knew she was well. To find her not only alive, but thriving…” He trailed off, and Anna glanced away briefly as he swiped at the corner of his eye. “But how does no one know?”

“Our children don’t even know.” Kristoff’s voice was gentle, and Anna recognized that he was concerned for the young man. “We’ve kept Julia’s secret safe. As far as anyone was concerned, she was simply Julia Olsen, the little girl we found out in the woods. The only people who know are one of our generals and the Duchess. They’re the only ones we could trust with the information. Well,” he added, smiling slightly, “until recently, anyway. She told Felix and Kristin, but she’d held off on telling anyone else just yet.”

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for her. It’s clear she’s happy here, could maybe make this her home for the rest of her life,” Leopold said, and his eyes looked so sincere it almost broke Anna’s heart. 

Anna felt a brief moment of confusion, and Leopold must have read it on her face. “She clearly favors Elias,” he said, actually managing a small smile for a moment. “A blind man could see that. But, my father is concerned for her safety now. As you saw, the letter referenced, ‘a lack of remorse for giving up his daughter to the royal family of Arendelle, while not worded so politely.’ Benjamin was never one for manners, you see.”

Anna nodded thoughtfully at this. “You’re right about that. He used to call me ‘that whore queen.’ That was one of his favorites, from what I’ve heard.”

“If that’s what you’ve heard, my father was being polite. He was an abomination,” Leopold said, and his voice dripped with disdain. “To call him blood is to bring further shame to our family name. God knows, we’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

“So,” Kristoff said, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown, “Hans got a hold of letters saying where Julia is…”

“And he knows my father always had a soft spot for her,” Leopold said, his voice desperate. “My father is afraid Hans will try something, and he wants us to try to persuade Julia to come back with us. He wants all of us under one roof with an eye on us himself. The illness has been contained, and he sees no reason we can’t safely return.”

“And Julia would go back as…” Kristoff trailed off, seeming uncertain of how to continue.

“More than likely, as she sees fit.” Leopold shrugged, and Anna felt a little lighter to see again how different Ivor and his sons were from Hans, to see that letting Julia make up her own mind seemed a given. “She could come back simply as Julia Olsen, some girl we brought back to serve some made up purpose. Preferably, though, she would return publicly, as herself. With more eyes on her, the likelihood that Hans will try anything is minimal.” Leopold frowned. “Or, at least—”

“You’re right, Leopold,” Anna said, nodding. “I’m sure the King will agree with that decision. Hans is, unfortunately, fairly conniving and very good at it. If she’s using her full title and surrounded by guards, they’ll keep a closer eye on her, and it would make her that much harder to get to.”

“What I can’t quite understand,” Kristoff said, still reading the letter, “is why  _ he’d  _ want Julia.”

“Money.” Leopold’s voice was grim. “If he had enough, he could disappear. He could go anywhere with what my father would give him to get Julia back, and Hans knows my father would pay anything to get her back. He’s in a different position than he was when Julia ran away. There’s more money now than there ever has been, and Hans knows it. That, and he’s been after my father for years to send him into exile.”

“And Ivor won’t do it?” Anna hadn’t heard any of this before. She knew the Southern Isles had been doing well the last few years, but she didn’t realize there was much, if any, communication between the oldest and youngest brothers.

“He wants Hans where he can keep an eye on him. Felix thinks it’s mad.”

“What do you think?”

Leopold thought for a moment, then said softly, “I think it’s sensible. Hans is dangerous. He hasn’t caused much grief under our custody, but who knows what he would do on his own.”

It was quiet for a long time while they all processed the sudden change of plans and the new information.

Then, the quiet was broken by the sound of shouting voices. They all listened as the voices grew closer. To Anna’s surprise, it was Julia, and she was arguing vehemently with Elias. Their indistinct words became clear as a door opened down the hall.

“This is ridiculous!” Julia sounded angry, but Anna could hear the little bit of fear in her voice. “You haven’t even had five minutes to think about this!”

“I don’t need time to think.” Elias’s voice rumbled with more fury than Anna had ever thought him capable. “You lied. You all lied!”

“Elias, stop!” Kristin’s voice interjected. Now there were running footsteps, and Anna rose quickly to her feet, knowing that Elias was coming to them, somehow knowing that it was not going to end well. “You’re acting like an idiot!”

There was a quick, perfunctory knock on the door before it burst open. Elias stepped inside, his footsteps heavy in his haste. His face was red as he seemed to take a moment to attempt to collect himself. He closed his eyes, took a breath, let it out, and opened them again, but his body remained tense.

“Please,” he said, and the way his voice sounded made the word a desperate plea,  _ “please _ tell me this is some crazy joke. Then we can all have a good laugh and get ready for the festival. Because it has to be a joke, Mama.” He crossed the room, stopping to stand in front of her. Anna was struck with just how tall Elias was growing. If it kept up, he would outgrow even his father. “They’re all joking, right?”

“It’s not a joke, Elias.” The words came out whispered. It was almost physically painful to watch his face first crumble, then harden. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Sorry?” Elias took a step back, seeming to forget anyone else was in the room, let alone his father, sister, Julia, Felix, who had come running behind them and looking petrified, and Leopold. “You’re  _ sorry?”  _ His voice now held disdain, and Anna frowned. “You lied to me!”

“Elias, we had to. At least for a while.” She tried to find the right words to explain to her son her duty toward Julia. “It was the best way to keep her safe—”

“And who would I have told?”

“Me, for a start.” Kristin seemed ready to argue to argue, but Elias ignored her.

“I thought you trusted me.” Her son’s voice now sounded betrayed, and she could see on his face the whirlwind that must be swirling in his mind. She could feel tears starting in the corners of her eyes as he asked, “Who knew? Other than Ivor and Papa.”

“Mattias and Elsa,” she said, feeling one of the tears trek down her cheek. “We couldn’t tell anyone else, we promised Julia we—”

“You made promises to a little girl and lied to your own children?” Elias’s face wore an expression of contempt now. “What kind of mother lies to her children for  _ someone  _ from—”

“That’s enough!” 

Everyone jumped, and the room fell silent. Widened eyes fell now on Kristoff. She couldn’t remember the last time he had truly yelled at one of their children. He could raise his voice from time to time, but he was always loving to their children. Now his face mirrored his son’s, and his voice echoed in the brief silence that followed. The last two words Elias had spoken made it clear that Kristin had been right in her fears. 

“Nothing,” Kristoff said, his voice now low and simmering with anger, _ “nothing _ gives you the right to speak to your mother like that.”

Faced now with his father’s fury, Elias’s face fell. His broad shoulders sagged. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s pretty obvious,” Kristoff said, his voice still just above a growl. “Your mother followed advice. If you want to go after someone,” he said, and he drew himself up to his full height, making Elias shrink back slightly, “go after me. Or Mattias, or your aunt. Your mother carried you and birthed you. She gave you life, and you ask what kind of mother she is?” His voice was shaking slightly, and Anna realized just how much his son’s words had hurt him. “She’s the kind of mother who has had to sacrifice watching her children’s first steps because she was stuck in a meeting to make sure half the country didn’t starve. She stayed up late with you when you were sick and woke up early to take care of this country the next day. 

“You’re letting prejudice blind you, son. You always have, when it comes to the Westergaards. But they’re our closest neighbors, and in case you haven’t noticed, Leopold and Felix haven’t tried to kill any of us or take over the country. Neither has Julia. She’s the same person you’ve always known. All that’s changed is the name.”

Elias’s eyes flashed for a moment, and Kristoff took a step closer to his son, seeming suddenly to dwarf him. He spoke very softly, his voice tainted now with disappointment. “Someone from where, Elias? What were you about to say?”

Julia stood off to the side with silent tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. Anna saw Kristin reach over to take Julia’s hand, and saw the older girl’s knuckles whiten as she held fast.

Elias just shook his head, though, and without another word, he left the room.

The quiet settled back over them, more uncomfortable this time, before someone spoke.

“I’m—” Julia tried to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ try to say you’re sorry,” Kristin said, her voice firm. She pulled Julia in for a tight hug. “He’s just being stupid. You know how he gets.”

“Exactly!” Julia’s voice raised with hysteria in a way Anna hadn’t heard in years, and her shoulders shuddered with sobs. “He’s never going to forgive me for this!”

Anna left the couch to wrap her arms around both girls, pressing her lips against Julia’s hair, which was tied back today in a simple braid. “He will,” Anna promised. “Just leave it for now, honey. And Kristin’s right. You don’t get to be sorry for this.”

Julia took a deep breath, and Anna let them go. Though Julia took a step back, she kept her tight hold on Kristin’s hand.

“Can I at least be sorry for the mess that’s about to happen?”

“No.” Kristoff spoke now, his voice firm. “You will make whatever decision you see best, and that’s the only thing you get to worry about.”

Julia glanced down at her feet for a moment before her watery eyes came back up to regard Kristoff. “What if I decide to go?”

“Then you go.” Anna could see that the words were difficult for her husband to speak. Julia had become like their own child, and even if she was leaving for her biological family, it still felt like losing one of their own.

“What if…” She trailed off, and Anna saw Kristin squeeze her hand. “What if I go, then I want to come back?”

“You can come back whenever you want, sweetheart,” Anna insisted. “This is still your home. This will  _ always _ be your home, no matter what.”

“And you don’t have to come back with us,” Felix interjected. “I’m sure Papa would understand if you wanted to stay here. We could send extra guards—”

“No, he’s right.” Julia sniffed, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Best to have us all in one place. I still need a little time to think, though.”

“Here.” Leopold had reached into his breast pocket and produced a handkerchief.

“Thanks.” A small, watery laugh escaped Julia’s lips, and she smiled weakly at Leopold. “Do  _ you _ forgive me? I lied to you, too.”

Leopold shrugged slightly. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said simply. “I’m just happy you’re alive. And I understand. Benjamin was a bastard. I’d imagine it would be a little difficult to trust anyone, even your own family.”

To Anna’s surprise, he took a few hesitant steps toward Julia before he paused, then extended his arms.

Then Julia was crying again, this time from something that wasn’t quite happiness, but close, as she stepped into the arms of her cousin. She buried her face in Leopold’s shoulder, her sobs becoming muffled. Leopold didn’t speak, instead holding her so tightly Anna wondered if Julia could breathe. She certainly didn’t seem to mind, and her knuckles were white where they dug into Leopold’s sides. There were tears in the young man’s eyes as he rested his head against the side of hers, patting her back soothingly as she cried for everything that was happening to her. 

Anna was amazed at the show of emotion from the usually reserved Leopold, but it made her feel better to know Julia was already loved, that she would continue to feel love, long after she left Arendelle.

If she left.

_ When _ she left.

The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of trying to decide what to do next, and trying to forget just how angry Elias really was with her.

Elias, who, like his father, was very slow to rise to genuine anger.

Elias, who was so clearly conflicted.

He didn’t come down to dinner. Kai informed Anna that he’d asked for a tray, and it had been taken up.

He didn’t come down for breakfast the next day.

When it was decided that Julia would return with her cousins to the Southern Isles, news Anna gave him herself while he stared blankly out over the fjord, he initially showed no emotion.

“She’s leaving soon,” Anna said softly. “We may not see her for a long time.”

No response.

“You can’t hate me forever, you know,” she said softly, sitting down next to him on the window bench.

His eyes finally left his view, and he gave her a pained look. “I don’t hate you.” His voice sounded raw, and she wondered if he’d been crying. “I can’t. I just…” He trailed off, and Anna felt helpless as he looked at her, looking like the five year old boy who had scraped his knee so badly once it had left a noticeable scar. “I…” His bottom lip quivered and tears filled his eyes. He broke into sobs, and Anna reached out, pulling her oldest child to her chest.

Anna hadn’t heard or seen Elias cry in years. Never had she heard the gut wrenching sobs that came from his lips, never had she seen him so completely diminished, and she tried to calm him with a gentle hand in his hair, but it only seemed to make him cry harder.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” The words were a whimper, and Anna felt her eye stinging with her own tears. “I thought…” He trailed off, another wave of sobs wracking his body.

Anna couldn’t answer him without further breaking his already shattered heart. Julia had never told him because she knew he hated the Westergaards, and her by extension. She hadn’t wanted Elias to hate her, so she’d kept silent.

Anna felt sure that Julia’s reasons for keeping silent had more to do with Elias than anyone else. She had eyes, and that was all it took to see that the relationship between the two had been changing for a while. They were different with each other.

As Leopold had said, even a blind man could see potential when it was so obvious.

Julia had ultimately kept silent out of a combination of fear and love, and Elias reacting so negatively showed that Julia hadn’t been completely out of line in her thoughts.

Elias finally calmed and got to his feet. He crossed the room to splash cold water on his face, heaving a heavy sigh after he did so. He paced for a moment, and Anna felt torn between giving him space and not wanting to leave him alone.

“I need to leave for a while,” he said finally, looking out the window. “Not because I’m mad. I just need to think. I need space. Air.”

“But Julia’s leaving, and—”

“I know. It’s not that. I just…” He shook his head, eyes glistening again slightly. “I can’t be here right now.” His face was guilty.

“Why?” She hated to ask, but she needed to know.

“She’s…” Elias trailed off, staring out the window for a moment before sighing softly. His lack of ability to complete a sentence spoke volumes.

“Talk to your aunt,” Anna said softly, though the words were painful. “Go to the forest. Get some air, visit the Northuldra. They’re your people, too. Maybe you can get some perspective up there.” She held back her tears, trying not to show her pain. Elias didn’t answer, and she rose from her seat. “Think about it. But whatever you decide, you’re old enough now to make your own choices.”

When he stayed silent, she reached forward to comb her fingers through his hair. “I'm so sorry, Elias. I should know better.”

“Stop, Mama.” His voice was soft. “You did what you needed to do, and I don’t blame you for that. It's just a lot to take in and it's…” He trailed off, wincing. “I'll be home when the baby comes, I promise.”

“I love you.” Her throat was thick. 

“I love you, too.”

She left before the tears could run down her cheeks.

By the time she made it back to their rooms, she was a wet, snotty mess. Kristoff was sitting in a chair in front of the fire when she came in, and he jumped to his feet at the sight of her. In choked off sentences, she relayed Elias’s desires to her husband, her tears flowing harder when he wrapped her in his strong, warm arms, lifting her off her feet, and carrying her off to bed.

It felt like losing two children, instead of one.

“Baby, I know you’re upset,” Kristoff whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “You have every right to be. But we have to try to get you calmed down. It’s not good for the baby for you to get so worked up.”

“I’m supposed to be happy,” she managed to say, “and I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

“We’ll put it back together,” he promised, his voice warm and low in her ear. “I promise you. Everything will work out fine in the end.”

He sounded like he really believed it. Kristoff had always lived in a world of realism, but he'd become more optimistic since she'd met him. If he thought it would work out, it would. Her mind flashed back to a time decades ago when she'd felt lost and scared, and the words he'd said then. 

_ "It's gonna be fine. Come here." _

She almost smiled. He had been trying to propose and she'd been oblivious, but he'd been right. Everything had been fine, in the end. Arendelle had been saved, Anna and Elsa had wound up exactly where they'd needed to be, and Kristoff had married her in flurries of winter snow. 

There were no more words after that. Anna quickly lost herself in her thoughts, wondering about what she had done, finding an odd empathy for her own parents that she'd never felt before. She knew now that, though perhaps they could have been honest with their daughters, there had been no sense of malice. But, where they had wanted to hide Elsa from the world, Anna had only wanted to hide Julia from those who could harm her. The feelings of frustration and comprehension warred in her mind. 

What if they'd told the children from the beginning? What if they'd known all along? There would have been no casting her out. Julia would have still been close with Kristin, to be sure. But would Elias have stayed mad for long? Would he have even been that upset? He'd been a boy on the cusp of his teenage years then, rather than facing down manhood. What would be different if Anna had told him then?

She'd never know. That, she supposed, would be her punishment. 

Elias left with Elsa two days later, only saying goodbye to his parents before the pair of them disappeared into a foggy morning. Anna had to watch Kristin’s face fall when Kristoff broke the news to the children.

A week after that, Julia climbed onto a boat that would take her across the water and away from their family.

“You’ll tell him,” Julia whispered, holding tightly to Anna one last time before departing. “You’ll tell him… I’m so…”

“I know, honey.” Anna kissed Julia’s cheek, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Time to go.”

And Anna forced herself to keep going.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Kristoff welcome a new member to their family. Elias takes a lesson from Elsa and comes to terms, then learns that hell hath no fury like a Bjorgman woman scorned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the marathon, kids! This thing's gonna be done before Christmas.
> 
> I recall a time when Kristoff wanted to beat the hell out of somebody, but Anna did it herself. In honor of that brief moment, I give Kristin a chance to do what her father did not.
> 
> As such, this chapter contains slapping. There is also a description of childbirth and some truly foul language.
> 
> Some months back, before I ever thought I'd finish this, I put out "Weathering the Storm." I'm aware of a few similarities, and yes, I stole Mrs. Jensen from myself. It's all good.

The months passed.

Kristoff kept up with the ice harvest, Anna’s overflow of paperwork, and the burden of the dual absences of Julia and Elias.

He was grateful that messages from his son came regularly, brought on the wind by Gale. He could see Anna’s shoulders as she relaxed, even laughed, at the tales their son told in his letters. And at the end of each correspondence, there would always be a message of love for his family, and a special one for Kristoff.

_“Don’t work too hard, Papa. You’re getting old.”_

_“Keep up with the young men, old man.”_

_“I can’t wait to show you…”_

_“I can’t wait to tell you…”_

And there was letter after letter from Julia, as well.

_“I’m all settled in, and have met all of my Uncle Ivor’s children, as well as a few more cousins. Uncle Simon is very kind and funny, and has four boys of his own. There are_ so _many boys…”_

_“I’m getting the feeling that I’m quite spoiled. Uncle Ivor only has Maria, and Uncle Simon has no daughters…”_

_“Maria seems to have taken to me quite well, and follows me around like my shadow. She actually reminds me quite a bit of Sara…”_

_“There’s a lovely fishing spot Felix showed me that I know Kristin would love…”_

_“I’m not surprised the twins wound up getting tossed into the fjord again. How I wish I could have been there…”_

_“I’m thinking quite seriously of taking you up on the offer of coming home for the holidays. It’s been so quiet here, Uncle Ivor thinks Hans may have been scared off by the sudden change of tactics…”_

  
  


These things weighed on his mind as he dragged himself from his desk one balmy evening in October. A storm threatened to roll in, and Kristoff sighed heavily. Anna never slept well in thunderstorms. In over two decades living at the castle, he had never known her to sleep through one without at least one bad dream. He always woke to flailing limbs and sobs of terror, trying his best to calm her furrowed brow.

His eyes felt out of focus as he shoved a few documents of lesser importance off to a pile to deal with in the morning. It was well past sundown, the clock reading a little past nine. Kristoff rubbed a weary hand over his face as he made his way down the halls, too tired to do much more than smile slightly at the few servants he passed.

He reached the door to their rooms with eyes weighed down by exhaustion and opened the door only to have them blow wide.

Anna stood in the middle of the room, looking down at her stomach. She was heavily round with the final stages of pregnancy, and she scowled down at her belly as she spoke.

“Now, you’re supposed to be out by now! You heard the midwife, I can’t possibly get much bigger, so it’s time for you to come _out_ !” She was pacing, and seemed not to hear him as he entered the room. “I know you’re thinking about it, I’ve been down this road before, so just come out! I promise to feed you and love you, and your papa will sing you lullabies and make your life a dream, but you have to come _out!”_ Anna finally looked up when he closed the door behind him. Her face was desperate. “Kristoff, he’s not coming out!” Her eyes were watering. “He’s going to stay in there forever! I’m going to die pregnant!” She threw her hands in the air with great drama, making an exasperated sound somewhere between a sob and a growl. 

“Still nothing?”

“Not a thing, and I’ve been walking around all day.” Kristoff blinked dazedly at her as she stepped closer, eyes intent on his. “There’s only one way to get this baby out.”

He couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “Honey, I’m so tired.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. _“You’re_ tired?” Her hands went to her hips. “I’m _obscenely_ pregnant, it’s storming, this child refuses to come out, so I can’t sleep for anything, after having not slept well for days, and _you,_ husband of mine, are tired?” 

Kristoff inhaled sharply, shaking himself awake. “Nope. Wide awake.”

Then Anna’s eyes softened, and Kristoff followed in the ebb and flow of her wild emotions. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip. “You married a crazy woman.”

“I married the Queen of Arendelle,” he corrected, wrapping his arms around her waist, “and I knew exactly what I was doing. It’s worth the paperwork, baby, I swear.”

Anna giggled at this, the smile finally erasing the frown lines. Then she whispered, “I thought I might sleep, but the storm is too loud.”

“Then let me keep you occupied,” he murmured against her neck, relishing in her soft sigh, “while we work on getting that baby the hell out. Because believe me, Anna, I’m ready for you to be done being pregnant, too. At least once the baby’s here, we won’t have to worry about wedging your body in with pillows every night, therefore making sleep an actual possibility, if not always probable.”

Making love to Anna had always proved a reliable way to encourage her into labor with a bit more haste. Sometimes it took a night or two, but it never failed.

When he woke to the sound of his wife’s cries, he at first thought it was another nightmare, something to do with Elias or the storm. But she was standing beside the bed, eyes wide when they met his.

“Now, Kristoff,” she said, and her voice was brusque. “Hurry. It’s going to—ooh!” She hissed out a breath before taking another deep one. “Oh, he’s coming fast! Really, really fast!”

He had no sooner pulled at the bell pull before she was moving back to the bed, lightning flashing to illuminate her frantic expression. “Blankets,” she gasped, panting as she grasped at the sheets.

There was a knock at the door, but before anyone had a chance to speak, Kristoff shouted out, “Call the midwife now, and fetch Gerda!” The sound of running footsteps indicated that the order had been followed, and Kristoff raced back to his wife’s side, putting the blankets next to her head.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, clutching his hand tightly for a moment before, eyes wide, she said, “you better get down there.”

“It's Oskar all over again,” he muttered, helping her to throw off the covers and push up her nightgown as he tossed a clean blanket over her spread knees. “At least this time, we’re in the bedroom and not the garden.”

“Oskar gave us time to get upstairs, at least,” Anna managed through her pants for breath. “This guy’s coming right now, Kristoff.” She grimaced, and there was a knock at the door.

Expecting Gerda, Kristoff was surprised to instead see a wide eyed Kristin. “I heard Mama shouting.” Her face looked much like Kristoff supposed he would have looked at sixteen. “Is everything—”

“Your little brother’s on his way,” Anna ground out, her teeth clearly clenched as she grasped at the sheets.

“Where's the midwife?” Kristin had frozen in the doorframe.

“She won't be here in time.” Kristoff glanced back at Anna, seeing the grimace of pain he knew meant she was ready to push. “Keep your siblings out, will you?”

“They sleep like the dead.” Kristin’s voice was shaky, but determined as she took a step into the room. “I was already awake. Can I do anything to help?”

“Why were you awake?” Kristoff glanced up from Anna, brow furrowed.

“Well—”

“Kristoff!” Anna’s voice was a snarl. “Can you have this conversation later?”

“Sorry.”

Kristoff gave the still-shocked Kristin a quick once over. She stood tall, looking pale but with that stubborn glint in her eye that Anna swore she got from him and he swore came from her, the same one she gave him any time he tried to convince her of the danger of one task or another. He knew “nothing” was not a viable answer.

So instead, he said, “Hold your mother’s hand.”

Kristin had her mother’s fingers wrapped in her own a moment later, and he was proud that she didn't wince. He knew from experience how hard of a grip his tiny wife could have, but Kristin bore it with no notice. She merely stared intently at her mother’s face and asked, managing to sound a little teasing, “Is it going to bother you if I can’t look anywhere else for a little while?”

Anna actually laughed breathlessly at this, smiling up at Kristin. “I think if you look, you’ll never want to do this.”

More footsteps announced the arrival of Gerda. She’d dispatched Kai as quickly as possible to rouse the midwife, but it could still be another twenty minutes.

“No time,” Kristoff said, gritting his teeth as he again looked up at Anna’s face. “I’m ready when you are, sweetheart.”

The room was quiet for several long minutes, the only sounds Anna’s breathing in between pushes and rain pattering on the glass. It wasn’t long before Kristoff could see a sticky mess of hair, and his eyes shot quickly to Anna. “Almost,” he said. “I can see his head.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Kristin sounded curious, even if her eyes appeared completely uninterested in actually seeing what was happening to her mother.

“I just know.” Anna sounded determined, and Kristoff was glad, because as the head came into clearer view, he could see that this baby was easily as big, if not bigger, than Elias.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“What?” Anna sounded panicked.

“Nothing.”

“I will strangle you.” She sounded completely serious.

“He’s just a little big is all.”

Anna grimaced again. “Great,” she said, pushing herself up to a position close to sitting. “Kristin, get behind me.”

In an instant, Kristin was sitting on the pile of pillows, supporting her mother, holding tightly to both her hands, as Anna bore down. Kristin's eyes moved to the ceiling, seeming very interested in the ceiling tiles. 

“Big push, Anna,” he ordered, and she bore down silently again. “Almost there.”

Then there was a head, a shocked little face, another push, shoulders and torso, then legs and knees and toes, everything in place. Kristoff's eyes instantly began to mist as he stared down at his newest son while Gerda helped clean him up, clearing the tiny eyes, nose, and mouth, both laughing when the little red face began to scream at him. 

Kristin had moved her gaze to the wall, trying to hide her teenaged disgust out of love for her mother, but Anna laughed another soft laugh and patted her hand. “Go check on your brothers and sisters,” she requested softly. “Then try to get some sleep.”

Kristin rose, giving Anna’s hand one more squeeze before leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I love you, mama,” she whispered, and Kristoff could see tears shimmering in his wife’s eyes, as well.

“Love you, too.” As Kristin disappeared, Anna managed to prop herself up a bit more on the pillows. “Is he okay?”

“Ten fingers, ten toes, hell of a voice box.” Kristoff laughed shakily, still in shock that their son had arrived so quickly. “And you’re going to be really happy, honey.” He lifted the baby up, resting him on Anna’s chest while Gerda fetched a soft, clean blanket.

Anna squealed with delight as she stared down at her son, who stopped crying when his hot skin met his mother’s, making instead little grunts. “Look at your red hair!” she whispered, her voice excited. Then her eyes widened as she felt him a bit better. “God, Kristoff, he’s huge! I think he’s bigger than Elias was! It’s lucky he was number seven.”

A door opened just as they were draping a blanket over Anna, and running footsteps heralded the midwife, who seemed relieved to see two happy parents and a still-attached baby. Kristoff and Anna stared down at the tiny face, which still gave them a shocked, almost insulted expression as their newborn son stared right back.

The midwife declared herself satisfied, patted Kristoff on the back and congratulated him, then bowed low before the queen before she set about cutting the cord and waiting for the afterbirth. Now released from his birthing duties, Kristoff climbed up next to Anna, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I still don’t understand how you do it.”

“I don’t understand how you’ve done _that,”_ she replied, grinning, as she nodded toward the midwife, “twice, and you still love me.”

“You could look like an old hag and I’d still love you.”

“Old hag, huh?”

“Yep.” He kissed the tip of her nose, feeling that warm and familiar feeling of wearing a smile that he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, keep off his face. “Grey hair, long nails, warts all over your face. You’d still be my Anna.”

“You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

The midwife’s cheerful voice interrupted. “The afterbirth’s coming now, ma’am if you could—” Kristoff saw Anna’s eyes narrow, then the midwife laughed. “If only all women were as easy as you, Majesty.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jensen.” Anna was gazing back at the baby again, fingers trailing over his red hair.

“Very little to thank me for, ma’am,” the midwife responded. “You and His Royal Highness did most of the work.” She raised her eyebrows as she examined Anna, then looked up at the baby again. “Huh.”

“What?” Anna peered around, curious.

“Not much tearing.” She shook her head, eyebrows raised. “You’d have had a much more difficult time if he’d come first.”

It wasn’t long before, from his place on her chest, the newest Bjorgman began to fuss again. This time, there was intent, and Kristoff watched in wonder as Anna shifted her nightgown from her shoulder, exposing a breast, helping their son find his way to his new food source.

“You’re right,” Anna said, sighing happily down at him as he immediately began suckling, already knowing exactly what to do, “I promised you food if you came out.”

Kristoff chuckled. “We do like to eat.” He recalled how quickly all three of his sons before this one had been quick to find the food source. The daughters had proven a bit more difficult, but Anna had managed them like a pro.

Then, to his surprise, for some reason, Anna’s face turned down. She almost looked sad. But before he could ask what was wrong, she said softly, “Maybe now Elias will come home.”

Kristoff brushed a few strands of sweaty hair back away from her neck, blowing softly to cool the skin there. “Once you’re both down, I’ll write to him. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll write to Elsa.” Elsa who, though happy to look after her nephew for a while, was also always on Kristoff’s side. He knew if he wanted his son home, his sister would knock him unconscious and drag him back if she had to. “We probably ought to name him first.”

She gazed down at their son, head tilting curiously. “His eyes are so dark already, just Elias and Kristin’s. And they look more like yours, anyway. He’s going to be like Sara, I think. A little bit of both of us.” She smiled up at him. “Got any ideas?”

“He’s big.” Kristoff still couldn’t believe it. They would weigh him later, and he’d be shocked if the baby didn’t weigh more than Elias had.

“Because he’s going to grow up to be a big Sámi iceman, like his papa.” Anna smiled, nuzzling down into the baby as he suckled.

“So, Nicolai? Good, strong name, and we can call him Nikko. He’ll fit right in up in the mountains.” He grinned. He’d once said the same thing about Elias, but it was Kristin who usually accompanied him up north. 

With, of course, the exception of his current absence.

Anna smiled down at the little boy in her arms. “Elias, Kristin, Axel, Anita, Oskar, Sara, Nikko.” She leaned against Kristoff. “Fits.”

“We have seven children.” Kristoff shook his head in amazement. _“Seven.”_

“Only because I love you.” Then she was beaming up at him, her exhausted face radiant. “I think we both deserve a good kiss after that.”

Kristoff agreed.

* * *

_Dear Elias,_

_I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that your brother showed up in the middle of a thunderstorm. His name is Nicolai, but we’ll just call him Nikko. He has ten fingers and ten toes, and would like his oldest brother to know that there is now an official challenge to who can scream louder than you did, and which of you will grow taller. Your mother swears he’s bigger than you were, and I’m pretty sure she’s right. She usually is about these things. I’d guess most women are. He has red hair, just like your mother, but his eyes are turning colors as quick as yours did. They should be properly brown before too much longer._

_I know the last few months have been hard for you, son. Since she’s been in bed and I’ve been doing her paperwork, she’s been doing the writing before now. My notes haven’t been very long, and I’m sorry for that. I’m watching your mother and brother sleeping now, though, so I find myself with a little more time than usual._

_I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your time with your aunt. I’ve always thought it would be good for you to spend some real time up there, learn how to really live off the land. I’m sorry it had to be for the reasons it was, but I’m glad all the same. You’ve grown up with more experience with animals and nature than most kids (you were raised with Sven, for God’s sake—glad to hear he’s happy and thriving up there, by the way), and a healthy respect for the mystical side of life (in regards to your aunt, the Snow Queen, and a snowman that talks and philosophises for hours and hours, and who should be back from his trip to Corona any day now)._

_You have always been the most outstanding brother, the one all your siblings admire. Sometimes it doesn’t feel fair that you have essentially had to help raise them, but somehow, you always understood that there was something different about our family, and the expectations on all of you were higher. God knows you’ve made my life easier over the years. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so proud as to hear from Kai that you had wrangled your remaining siblings to throw Axel and Anita into the fjord. Please never repeat it to your mother, but I’m also a little proud of myself. I taught you well._

_(Also, throwing them into the fjord to calm them down is extremely useful, and I thank you for that. I’m sure your mother told you about Kristin and I doing it again a few weeks ago.)_

_Your siblings are all well. Kristin surprised us both by sitting with your mother during the birth. Little Nikko was ready to come out, and Kristin sat with her so I could worry about catching your brother. Sara is absolutely over the moon about not being the youngest anymore. She’s already instructed Oskar and the twins that they have to listen to her more now, because she’s not the baby. The twins have been complaining that Kristin isn't as much fun in charge, but they mind her for the most part. And you know Oskar—not a complaint or a toe out of line._

_Kristin has been writing back and forth with Prince Felix, which I know your mother's written about before now. I don't like it, but Mama thinks it's sweet and romantic. I'm not sure anyone is good enough for your sister, but I'm her father. It's my job to think that. I’m also supposed to think it’s nuts that she’s having a special dress made for the Yule Ball. She never gets dressed up for it, but this year, she’s having so much fabric brought it it’s making my eyes crossed._

_I know your mother hasn't written anything about Julia. We don't necessarily agree on that, but I'm not about to fight that battle with your mom. I know she'd tell me to write to you myself, so that's what I'm doing._

_Julia writes regularly, and she's doing very well. She's keeping up her studies and loves her family there, but she says she's homesick for Arendelle, so your mom invited her back for the Yule Ball. I thought you deserved to know she's coming back for Christmas with Felix (which, I suspect, is why your sister is so insistent on getting all dressed up this year). Your mother wants you home as soon as you can get here, and I'm sure she wants you here for Christmas. I'm also sure she'll understand, like I would, if you need to hole up in your room for a while, or take off for a few days altogether. I just hope next time you're not gone so long. And be realistic; we both know how much you would miss the hot chocolate and warm fires during the winter._

_Come home, son. Your mother wants you here, and so do I. I love you, and I'm sorry I was so hard on you. I'm sorry about a lot of things. To be honest, I don't know how to argue with you. I've never had to before, but I guess I'll have to learn. Don't punish your mother for this, and please learn not to punish Julia. Ivor is a good man I've learned to trust, and Julia is cut from the same cloth, if not a little more thick skinned. Don't punish her for the sins of her family. You know she's more like you than you'd maybe like to admit right now. Learn to forgive her. None of us are perfect, son. We did what we thought was best, and I'm sorry you were hurt._

_I love you, Elias. Come home, just so I don't have to set your Aunt Elsa on you._

  
  


His father's signature, so familiar, was blurry by the time he finished. He tried to fight off the tears, splashing his face with cool water from the river as he heard someone coming. He had just gotten himself together when his aunt emerged, smiling hopefully at him. 

"Well," she said, climbing up onto the flat top of the rock, "do you have a new little brother yet?"

Elias couldn't speak, afraid if he opened his mouth that he'd start sobbing like the baby. Instead, he handed her the letter with all its heavy words from his father and let her read it. She sighed happily at first, then laughed, then grew quiet as she reached the end. When she was finished, she tucked the letter into her pocket and reached for him. He realized belatedly that tears were trekking down his cheeks.

“I can’t…” Elias choked on his words as he buried his face in his aunt’s shoulder. She rubbed his back and stroked his hair like she had when he was eight, having fallen from this same rock and scraped his shin. He still had the scar. “I thought she loved me. I thought maybe…”

“I don’t think maybe,” Elsa said firmly. “You two have always treated each other differently than any of your other siblings. You’ve always looked at each other differently.”

“Then why…” He was choking again. “I don’t understand how you can love someone but lie like that.”

“Hey.” Elsa’s voice was firm as she reached down, grabbing his chin so she could stare straight into his face. “I love you. Your parents love you. And we all lied. Not to hurt you, and we knew not forever, which doesn’t make it any better.” She sighed, her brow furrowing as she wrapped her arms around him a bit more tightly. “I never understood how my parents could lie to Anna, even lie to me, in the end. But I was lying, too. I didn’t tell anyone until it was too late. I thought I was protecting my family. That made it easier. Not right or wrong, so much, just more justifiable. I’m not sure if that makes sense.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And I know it’s not what you want to hear, but you’re lying, too.”

Elias felt indignant, straightening to stand up, hopping down from the rock, distracting himself with trying to skip a few pebbles across the surface, which calmed to make his endeavor easier. “Am not,” he muttered, watching a particularly well thrown stone skip across to the other side.

“Are too.” Elsa kicked her feet out in front of her, watching his progress. “You’re getting better at it these last few months, but I've known you since you were born. You can't fool me any me than you can fool your parents.”

“How did I lie?”

“You lied to yourself, which is worse, in a lot of ways. You let yourself think it was more important that Julia is a Westergaard than that you love her.”

“Loved her.” He skipped another rock, his voice resolved.

“Love her.” Elsa’s voice was resolved. “You’re lying about that, too.”

“Loved her. And it was more important.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Elias.” Elsa sighed heavily. “You’re a remarkable young man, do you know that? Your only real flaw is how stubborn you can be.”

“Got it from both parents.” Another rock made it across, and he wondered vaguely if the Nokk was helping him.

“And from me.” Elsa’s eyebrow raised as she continued, “Fun fact I’m sure I’ve never shared with you—did you know the Nokk knows when you’re lying? And if you’re not lying, you’ve got nothing to fear, I suppose.” And before he knew what had happened, ice formed beneath his feet and he slipped into the river.

Elias instantly felt himself pulled beneath the surface for what felt like eons, but was really only a few seconds, before he came up, sputtering. “What the—” Then, once he had his breath, he was pulled beneath again. When he resurfaced the second time, he recalled his aunt’s words, calling out, “Fine! I’m lying! I love Julia and I hate every minute of it! It’s not fair!” 

There was pressure against his back, and he was back on the shore again, dripping and annoyed at the almost laughing sound from the water behind him. His aunt smiled her tiny, amused smile, head cocked slightly to one side. 

“What the hell,” he spat, shaking water from his clothes and hair, “is _wrong_ with you?” Snow Queen and aunt or not, Elsa had let him be dragged under the water by an annoyed water spirit. “You could have killed me!”

“I would have told it to stop before you were in any real danger. And you’re a terrible liar, Elias.” Elsa’s eyes twinkled. “You always have been. Do you remember when the twins broke a vase and you tried to take the blame? Your father knew you were lying before you ever finished explaining.”

Elias blinked. “He knew?”

“Like I said, you’re a terrible liar. I knew you’d be fine. And I’d never let harm come to a hair on your head. Now,” she said, sliding down from the rock, “you’d better get going. I’ll be along for Christmas in a few weeks. Take Sven. Your father will be over the moon to have him back for Christmas.”

There was a thundering from the woods, and the reindeer in question came bursting through, tongue lolling excitedly at the prospect of an adventure. Elias shook his head bemusedly. He swore the reindeer was magic, to which Elsa had once shrugged, smiling, as if she knew some great secret he didn’t. Sven pranced back and forth in front of Elias, sniffing and nudging.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We were supposed to go weeks ago. I’m sorry.” He scratched Sven behind the ears, laughing as his face was licked. “We’re going now, just let me get some food, and—” A satchel was thrown in his face. “Well played. I won’t ask how you managed it. I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

“Kiss the baby for me.” Elsa gave him a quick hug before pushing him toward Sven. “I’ll see you for Christmas.”

“See you for Christmas.”

Then, he paused. He wasn’t sure when it would be like this again, when he would be away from everyone but his aunt, and he finally asked the one thing he hadn’t asked for the same lack of courage which he suddenly felt.

“Do you forgive him?”

His aunt took a sharp breath, then seemed to steady herself. Her shoulders squared off and her ice blue eyes set firmly. “Top be honest, I still don't know,” she said, and here, she paused, fidgeting with her fingers. After a moment, she continued, “Maybe. I'll never forget it, to be sure. But I don’t blame Ivor.” Then, she cocked her head. “Do you recall how I met Ivor? How Simon became a friend?”

Elias thought, blinking a few times. Did he? She seemed to read his mind, and she smiled wryly before elaborating.

“Ivor was sent over when I was twenty-two. It had been a year since my coronation, and I was having a ball to make up for the one I froze.” Elias chuckled, and she continued, shaking her head. “He came with his brother, Simon.” She laughed lightly. “This was before Simon was married, mind you, and I think their father thought Simon and I might make a nice match.”

Elias vaguely remembered Prince Simon. He’d been very young, and had only seen him in passing, but he remembered the vibrant smile and the roguish appearance.

“I, of course, thought that was ridiculous. For a variety of reasons,” she said, shrugging vaguely and smiling ironically. “You can’t imagine how pleased I was when Prince Simon immediately apologized for the letter their father sent me. Then he promised to sit quietly in the corner with his brother and leave in the morning.”

“Did he?”

“I insisted he enjoy himself.” She smiled at some memory.

“What?”

“He brought it up again after a few glasses of wine,” Elsa said. “He said, of course, we couldn’t marry, that I wasn’t the type, and that though I was his, he would never want to subject me to something I didn’t want. How he knew that after only a few hours, I’ll never know, but he was right. I’m too dedicated to my life’s work.

“Simon promised to tell his father that it had been discussed at great length so that it wouldn’t come up again. And he understood the other reasons I couldn’t marry him. Every time I look at him…” Elsa sighed heavily. “I know they’re not the same, not even close. And when I couldn’t say that, Simon did.”

“Really?”

“I believe his exact words were, ‘How would it feel to have to make love to a man who looks like someone who tried to murder you?’ And he apologized, said he should have tried harder to look after his little brother, but that he was so swept up with his career in the Navy and so young that he didn’t have the perspective to understand what would happen.”

“And are you? His type, I mean?”

“Oh, certainly.” Elsa smiled, and there was mischief in her eyes. “We would probably have worked out quite well, really. I would have done my duty, he’d have done his, and he’d have been out the door before the morning.”

“You mean he’s unfaithful?”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Elias, for someone so smart, you’re so blind sometimes. Simon and his wife are absolutely faithful to each other in their mutual lack of fidelity.”

Crossing to scratch Sven, she left him for a moment to consider her words.

“I don’t understand,” he said slowly, “why you would marry someone just to be unfaithful.”

“Simon is a Prince of the Southern Isles.” Leaning back against the stone they’d perched on minutes before, she crossed her arms. “He’s not the first royal in such a position of having to put duty before personal preference.”

What… 

Oh. _Oh._

“You mean he’s… well, that is to say, he…” Elias wasn’t sure of a polite way to voice what he was thinking, the long held suspicion that his aunt preferred the company of other women to men. It didn’t bother him, but it still surprised him to hear it confirmed.

“He adores his wife,” Elsa said, smiling, “but their relationship is strictly platonic. They were fortunate to find each other, really.”

“Did he actually tell you that?”

“Not directly, no,” Elsa said, “but it’s easier to tell when you have as trained of an eye as I do.”

“Huh.”

“Simon did try, you know. So did Ivor. They tried to fix him after everything happened, to help him heal his heart.”

“How do you know?”

“You recall Simon visiting Arendelle, I’m sure.”

It was a memory Elias had tried to bury, but it surfaced fairly easily. Simon had come to Arendelle with a fleet when someone decided the Snow Queen’s absence from the throne meant Arendelle was vulnerable. They hadn’t reckoned neighbors trying to salvage an alliance, or Simon himself, arriving. Simon was one of the most respected navy commanders in the North Sea, and his mere presence had caused the aggressors to flee. True to form, his mother had thrown a party, and he’d danced on her feet while Elsa laughed with Simon in a corner.

“He told me then,” she continued, seeming to see his recall on his face. “Simon offered Hans a commission, a chance to clear his name, and Hans spat in his face.”

Elias had never heard this before, and it shook him to his core. Hans could not forgive or forget. Was he that way, himself? Or could he find it in himself to be better than that? To forgive Julia her sins, which seemed so much more understandable after months of reflection?

Even more, to forgive her for something which she had no control over, and which he could see now, with months of clarity, was something for which she bore no true blame, leaving him dreadfully in the wrong.

Elsa gave him a raised eyebrow and an affectionate gaze. “Go home, Elias. Forgive, and if you can’t forget, at least let yourself move on with your life.” She held out her arms. “Come here.”

His mother had been right to tell him to come here. He needed to thank them both. Sweeping his aunt up, he squeezed her as tightly as he ever had. She squeaked.

“Elias,” she said, her voice strained as she patted him on his back, “easy, sweetheart.”

“Oh, fuck.” He slapped a hand over his mouth as she cackled delightedly. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, honey.” She patted his cheek fondly. “I see all of us in your heart, you know. But when I look at your face,” she added, grinning cheekily, “I’m reminded of this big brute who melted over my sister, and how much I love that man for giving me all of you. You just have to remember you’re almost as big as your Papa now, and try not to break me. Got so big and strong, all the better to beat off the ladies with a stick.”

Clearly, she thought she was _very_ fucking funny.

“Geeze,” he grumbled, stalking off toward Sven, his face flaming, Sven fucking _laughing_ at him, if a reindeer could laugh. 

With a deep breath, before he was really ready but without much choice, the Crown Prince of Arendelle was off, leather and fur quickly drying as he raced through the countryside.

By the time he arrived at the doorstep of the castle, sure to be looking quite a sight and smelling just as bad, but still instantly tackled by his siblings and hoisted off his feet by his father, he had finally resolved himself.

He was going to find a way to get over himself, over her name, for her, if it was the last thing he did.

Even if it was too late.

* * *

The twilight was dwindling, almost completely gone, but Kristin couldn’t find it in her to move just yet. The letter she had been reading was refolded and cradled in her lap, but the words were still crystal clear in her mind, as if they were in front of her still.

_Clearly, he has a distaste for me, though he seemed increasingly civil. Julia has given me an informed account of his past opinions, and though he may change eventually, I find myself not wanting to be the cause of a rift. If nothing else, perhaps we need to move slowly and with great care. While I appreciate your feelings, I find I could never reconcile with anyone who came between myself and Leo, and while I understand how you feel, I worry you would come to regret it…_

_Give it time, my darling friend…_

Sighing, Kristin rested her forehead on her drawn knees, closing her eyes for a moment. Another letter, another gentle refusal.

All the fault of Elias, who wasn’t even here to see how good and kind Felix could truly be.

Kristin knew her father had written to Elias several days ago, just as she knew Elias had yet to respond. It enraged and saddened her that her brother, the one she used to tell everything to, had gone to such lengths to get away from their family.

And, to be honest, it pissed her off that he hadn’t taken a second to think about anyone but himself. He hadn’t thought of their pregnant mother, their father, their younger siblings, or of her. Instead, he had spouted off at the mouth in a way she’d never seen before, saying the most dreadful things, and ultimately, making the decision for Julia that she needed to go be with her blood relations.

She still recalled that day vividly. Leopold’s low bow, Julia’s quiet tears as she’d clutched Kristin tightly for several long minutes, the way Felix’s lips had lingered on the backs of her fingers.

Fucking Elias and his fucking prejudices. 

Kristin’s ears were met with heavy footsteps, and they stopped beside her, several feet away. Turning her head just enough to see the feet, she sighed heavily at the boots she saw.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Papa.” She turned her face back in, not wanting to see the knowing look in her father’s eyes that she knew would meet her gaze.

“Just as well. I probably don’t want to know.”

Before she could register her brain giving her body a command, Kristin was on her feet, the letter falling from her skirts and landing on the smooth stone floor. Her eyes widened at the face in front of her, so similar to the one she’d thought she would see, but younger, without the beard and lacking the gray hairs that had sprouted over the years.

There before her, one eyebrow raised, was Elias.

“Hi.” He took a small step forward, his gaze hopeful. “I just got back. Kai thought you might be up here, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello before I get changed for dinner.” Changed for dinner? “Want to come with me?”

_Goddamned son of a bitch._

Elias frowned, seeming a little hurt. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

For a long moment, Kristin felt like she’d been frozen by her aunt, immobile and cold. Then, heat rushed through her veins and warmed her again, and with no hesitation, she took three steps forward, bringing back one hand to slap her older brother across the face hard enough to make an echo in the corridor.

The goddamned fucker had the _nerve_ to look surprised.

“What the hell—”

_Thwack!_ Now both his cheeks were red. Kristin could hear the scurrying of feet and doors opening, but she barely noticed as she stood, fuming, in front of a perplexed Elias.

“You ass hole!” Elias had once poked fun of how high her voice could go, and she heard it now, but she didn’t have it in her to dial it down. “You son of a fucking _bitch!_ You show up after _months,”_ she snarled, taking a step forward when he retreated, looking properly terrified, “and you think I’m just going to be happy to see you? Do you know one damn thing about me?”

The door at the end of the hall, the one that led to their bedrooms, creaked open, and out of the corner of her eye, Kristin could see Axel and Anita, eyes wide, poking their heads out. Having witnesses didn’t do a thing to stop her, not even when Oskar scurried out from between them, taking off down the corridor toward their parents’ rooms as fast as he could go.

“I’m really sorry.” Oh, so _now_ he was sorry. “I just needed to—”

“I don’t give two fucks from a donkey what _you_ needed!” Kristin felt the rumble of her growl in her chest, liking that his eyes widened and he actually looked nervous. Good. “Did you even stop to think for _one minute_ what you were doing? You sent Mama into a fit of hysterics and it was days before she was back to normal. Did you know she was put on bedrest for a week after you left?”

Elias’s eyes widened further, this time with shock. “No. Papa never said—”

“And that’s another thing! You wrote to Mama and Papa and you never, not once, put in a note to me! Not like I’m the center of the world or anything, but I got nothing!”

“I didn’t—”

“You sure as hell didn’t! You didn’t think for a minute! You’ve had this chip on your shoulder for _years,_ Elias, and you never stopped to think how it could affect anyone else! I lost my big sister because you had to be such an ass!” There was just enough love in her not to say Julia’s name aloud, instead relaying the sentiment. “And _you_ didn’t even say goodbye to me! You just ran off! What the _hell_ did I ever do to you?”

“You didn’t—”

“Oh, shut up.” Kristin put furious fists on her hips as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You just got jealous and angry and stuipid, and when I tried to talk to you about it, you didn’t even listen to me! You didn’t hear a word I said! And _I’m,”_ she finished, her right hand dropping from her waist to ready at her side, “supposed to be _happy_ to see you?”

This time, her fist came back, but a strong hand on her arm stopped it from flying forward. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but it did nothing to stop her from trying the other fist. She was lifted off her feet and spun around, so that her father’s large form stood between her and Elias. Probably for the best. She’d been seriously considering either breaking his nose or going for the groin.

“Aw, come on, Papa.” Axel sounded as disappointed as Kristin felt.

“Out.” Kristoff pointed one long finger back to the way they’d come from, and just as quickly as they’d come running, the twins scampered away. He sighed heavily, watching them go. Then, he held out his arms, gesturing for his son. Elias stepped forward, a little hesitant, and was quickly lifted up off his feet and tightly squeezed. Then, just as quickly, he was put back down, hands resting on Elias’s shoulders. “I love you. Get out.”

“But—”

“Do you want a bloody nose? I said out! I'll come find you in a bit” Her father’s eyes narrowed and Elias shrunk a little, turning and heading after his siblings, Oskar trailing behind him. Once they were gone, her father sighed again. “So, I see your brother’s back.”

“He doesn’t even care!” Kristin stooped to pick up the letter from Felix. “Felix doesn’t want anything to do with me, and it’s all _his_ fault, and he doesn’t even care! He doesn’t care that Julia isn’t here, doesn’t care that he has a new brother, doesn’t…” She could feel herself starting to hyperventilate. “Doesn’t care that… that…”

“Breathe, baby.” Her father’s voice was soothing, and she could feel the tears bubbling up.

“I…” The sobs were simmering in her chest. “I can’t… I don’t know…”

It suddenly dawned on Kristin that she’d never really cried after Elias had left. She’d been upset, had shed a few tears, but she hadn’t had the kind of outburst she was having now. She felt dizzy, almost a little sick, and gravity suddenly seemed to have no bearing on her. She swayed on her feet, wondering if she would collapse, before strong arms lifted her, cradling her while she sobbed uncontrollably into her father’s chest, before settling them both back in the window seat.

“Breathe, baby girl.” Her father’s breath was warm against her hair. “Try to breathe. Can you take a deep breath for me?” She managed a shuddering one. “Good job, sweetheart. Can you do it again?”

“Why did he do this to me?” Kristin would have been embarrassed at the whimper her voice had become if it were anyone else.

“Because he wasn't thinking straight.”

“But you don’t just leave the people you love.”

It was quiet for a long time, and Kristin wondered what her father was thinking. Finally, though, he spoke, his voice soft.

“You do when you’re not thinking clearly.” Sniffling, Kristin forced herself to look up. There was a small smile pulling Kristoff’s lips, a far away look in his eye as he smoothed her hair back. “Your mother ran off on me once.”

“Really?” Tucking her fists under her chin, she gazed up, recalling how she would do the same thing when her father would tell her stories when she was much younger.

“It was a long time ago,” he recalled, “before we were married. She went after your aunt. She was so wrapped up in worrying about Elsa that she didn’t stop to tell me where she was going. I honestly thought she’d left me for a while.”

“Then what happened?”

He smiled again. “I found her the next day. She was a wreck. Thought I was gone, thought your aunt and Olaf were dead.” Kristin vaguely recalled this story, but not the part her father was telling her now. “They were and they weren’t. I’m sure you remember the story.”

“What did you do?”

“I helped her. That’s what you do when you love someone. Love,” he continued, his voice a little wistful, “makes people do crazy things. Doesn’t matter if it’s familial love or romantic love, it makes you crazy. Kind of like you. Heard you got pretty feisty.”

Kristin buried her face in her father’s strong chest, groaning quietly. “What did Oskar say?”

“Said you gave Elias a piece of your mind.” He laughed again. “Twice. I can’t condone it, but I understand it.”

“I should apologize." Kristin sighed heavily. “Right?”

“Probably. Now,” Kristoff continued, squeezing her gently, “what’s this about Felix wanting nothing to do with you? I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Not completely. I was being dramatic.”

“You?” Kristoff made his voice shocked, and Kristin giggled. “You would never do such a thing!”

“He said he can’t start up any kind of courtship when Elias feels so strongly. He doesn’t want to be a wedge between us.”

Kristoff nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe you can look at that as a positive.”

“How is that a positive?”

“If he were really as bad as your brother _might_ think he is, he would use it as an advantage.” The sigh that left him was heavy, and Kristin knew that the words were as difficult for him to say as they would be for Elias, but for other reasons. “You know I wouldn’t let just anyone set eyes on you, honey.”

“I know.” Shifting, Kristin wrapped her arms tightly around her father. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“So, coming from me, I hope you understand how difficult it is to say that I think you just need to give him some time.”

“That’s what Felix said.”

Kristoff groaned, rising and setting her back on her feet. “When did you grow up on me, kid?”

“I’ve always been growing up on you, Papa.” She squeezed him tightly again. “But I promise never to stop being your little girl. Does that make you feel better?”

“Promise?”

Kristin’s bond with her father had always run as deep as a mountain lake. He’d taught her to fish, to harvest ice, to love and to trust. She knew letting go of her would never be easy, so she whispered, just for him and to heal his wounded heart, “You’ll always be the most important man in my life, Papa. I swear, until the day I die.”

“Oh, Christ,” he grumbled, kissing her forehead before pushing her toward the door. “Now you’re going to make _me_ cry. Get out of here, before I turn into a mush pile. I have to find your mother and tell her Elias is home.”

Grinning, she lifted up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek before heading after her brothers.

Axel and Anita had disappeared behind closed doors, but she noticed immediately that Elias’s was slightly ajar. Quiet voices drifted out, and she softened her footsteps so that she wouldn't be heard.

“I really didn’t mean to upset her like that.” Elias was speaking quietly, and she wondered for a moment who he was speaking to.

“Well, how did you think she was going to feel?” Oskar’s voice was soft and calm, like always, but a bit more accusatory than was usual for him. “You didn’t say goodbye or anything. You really hurt her feelings.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t always matter what you mean to do,” Oskar said, and there was the understanding of someone thirty years his senior in his voice. “It matters what the outcome is.”

Kristin’s heart swelled at love for her little brother. She loved all of her siblings, of course, but Oskar had always come with the least grief. He was the kindest and most understanding of all of them, the slowest to judge and the quickest to forgive. He also tended to be the most empathetic and capable of reason and understanding. 

“But you understood, right?” She could almost see Elias’s stressed features.

“Yes. But it doesn’t mean I felt any better about it. You left me, too, you know.”

Elias sighed heavily, and Kristin stopped outside his door, out of view of her brothers. “I’m sorry, Oskar. I love you. I just didn’t have my head on straight.”

“I love you, too.” There was a soft thud, the sound of Oskar hopping down from whatever furniture he must have been perched on, then his gentle footsteps. “Just make sure you tell Kristin the same thing.”

Then he was at the door, looking completely unsurprised to see her. He smiled his gentle smile up at her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry I told Papa on you,” Oskar said, his voice regretful. “I just didn't want you to break Elias’s nose.”

Kristin laughed, reaching out to pull his thin form into her arms. “You did the right thing, just like always.” She squeezed him tightly before letting go. “Why do you always know the right thing to do?”

“Well, someone has to.” His ice blue eyes, identical to their aunt’s, twinkled up at her. “Certainly can’t leave it up to the twins.”

“Hey!” Axel, who had clearly been listening, threw open his door, a wounded expression on his face.

“Oh, come on.” Oskar rolled his eyes. “You and Anita wanted to place bets on who’d get the best swing in, and you know it.” Axel looked sheepish, and Oskar giggled. “Come on. We can play checkers until it’s time for dinner.”

They disappeared into Axel’s room, and Kristin took a deep breath, steeling herself before she stepped through the open door.

Elias was standing at the foot of his bed, and the sight of him took her aback. His tired eyes were downcast, hands fidgeting with his tunic, weight shifting nervously from foot to foot. His face was etched with an expression she could only describe as shame, and it was almost painful to see.

There had been very few times in her life when Elias had ever had cause to feel shame, and every time, it was brought on by the result of highly mistaken actions or words.

There had been so many things she’d wanted to say, but she couldn’t think of one of them, now.

“I messed up.” His head was still down and his hands fell loose at his sides, but Kristin could hear the threat of tears in his voice. “I fucked everything up, Kristin.” Kristin bit her lip hard as he took a shuddering breath. “I hurt Mama—”

“Nikko’s just fine,” Kristin said quickly. “Everything turned out fine.”

Elias continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I made Papa’s life a thousand times more difficult. I made it harder for _you,_ because somebody has to deal with _them.”_ He gestured toward the open door, which she quickly snapped shut, toward the rooms of their younger siblings. “And I made it harder for you with…” He trailed off, then took a deep breath.

_Come on, Elias._ She needed the words.

“I can write to him,” Elias said suddenly, abruptly straightening up, blinking rapidly, then starting toward his desk. “I’ll write Felix a letter and explain—”

“You’re _not_ writing him a letter,” Kristin ordered. “Not now, anyway.”

Halfway to his desk, Elias stopped again and looked back at her. His eyes were still mournful. “I’m sorry,” he said. It was the second time that evening he’d used the words, and the first that had held any meaning for her. “I’m _so_ sorry. I made your life miserable, and I’m so sorry.”

Now it was Kristin’s turn to look at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m not _miserable.”_

“All the responsibility and no help?” She saw him shake his head. “If I would have just kept my stupid mouth closed, Julia would still be here to help you.”

It was the first time either of them had said her name. It should have been bitter to him. The last words he’d spoken to her had been in a fury. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d even said her name.

But it wasn’t bitter, not from the sound of it.

It was soft. There was a tone of loyalty there, of… something.

Love?

Had he finally, _finally_ figured it out? He’d been in love with her for years, his head stuck in a cloud of oblivion, and Julia, who was still learning what love was, never seemed to notice.

Julia also didn’t notice that she’d been quietly gravitating closer and closer to him over the years, blushing more when they spoke and suddenly changing the subject whenever Julia’s own feelings were brought into question by Kristin.

Kristin inhaled deeply, realizing that Elias was waiting on her to speak. She scuffed her toe softly against the carpet. “I’m still mad at you,” she muttered, “but I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

“Absolutely not.” Kristin blinked at his deadpan face. “I had that coming. You didn’t do a thing, and I made a mess out of your whole life. And you were right. I need to get over myself. Julia will always be Julia, no matter who she really is.” Elias seemed uneasy with his words, but he kept on. “No, I’ll wait for you to forgive me. I’ll earn it, I promise. Really, I’ll write to Felix. No idea what I’ll say, but I’ll still write.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she muttered, crossing the room to throw her arms around him. “Would you just shut the hell up?”

“So…” he said slowly, his words muffled against her hair, and the sensation that he was really here, _finally_ home, sunk in.

“What?”

“You want me to write to him, or not?”

Kristin laughed, pushing away to swipe at the tears in her eyes. “Absolutely not! You’ll give him a heart attack and we’ll _never_ have a chance.”

“Always so dramatic.” But he was finally smiling.

A scream pierced the ear, but neither sibling jumped. It was a familiar sound, one that made them both smile and giggle. It was followed by peals of delighted laughter and the sound of a door bursting open.

“You think I’m dramatic,” Kristin warned, beaming now, “just you _wait_ until Mama gets her hands on you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas in Arendelle, and the Westergaards have arrived to take part in the celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The marathon continues! Warnings for physical threats.

The holidays were always over the top in the castle, but it was just how Anna liked it best. When it was bursting at the seams; when it was decorated in blues and silvers by her children and beautiful ice by her sister; when Olaf and Sven were back and running from house to house to offer everyone a holiday greeting; when Kristoff spent his time chasing the younger ones, and occasionally Kristin, away from the presents under the tree.

She watched, Nikko in her arms, as her husband and oldest two sons, because for whatever reason Axel had decided he was suddenly old enough to help, hoisted up the Yule Bell. Kristin stood next to her, an extra warm blanket in her hands, ready to wrap Nikko’s tiny head before the bells went off. Anna had long since learned that babies and loud noises were no good match, and Kristin doted on her brother, quick to offer any help Anna needed. 

For the first time, Anna didn’t actually _need_ a nurse during the day, only at night, while they slept. Elias had returned days after his brother’s birth, never explaining what it was that his father had written, but seeming, for all the world, happy to be back. Things went more or less back to something closer to normal fairly quickly, the care of the youngest being taken care of by the eldest, Kristoff overseeing them all. The first time Anna had brought up a day nurse, Kristin had looked crestfallen.

“I mean, the maids help me once in a while, but I really don’t mind taking care of him.”

“I can help, too.” Anna had turned, a little astonished, to Anita. The girl was a whirlwind most days, but she did seem to calm around her baby brother. She had grown up in the last two months more than she had in the last two years. She fought less with Axel, neither of them wanting to be the reason the others sniped at them when their elevated voices irritated Nikko.

“Still,” Anna had said, “he’s very little, and with the holidays coming up, do you really want to be saddled with your baby brother? I’m sure Felix wouldn’t mind, but you wouldn’t have much privacy.”

Kristin’s shocked face had been answer enough.

The nanny was lovely. She had no problem letting the girls help, even encouraging the boys. Oskar and Axel were still a little skittish, but Elias, to no one’s real surprise, was quickest to learn first to change Nikko, then the quickest to engineer a more efficient way of cleaning him up.

“I don’t remember Oskar or Sara being this bad,” he had said that morning, scowling at the basket of dirty diapers in his hands.

“You didn't change them when they were as small as Nikko. There was no contest back then. And newborn soiled diapers are a whole different thing than an older baby. More frequent, but honestly, not quite as gross as they get once they're on solid foods. You’ll be glad you knew that already when you have one of your own.” Kristoff had grinned at Elias’s scowl.

Now, both boys were smiling as they hoisted the bell up, even quicker than last year, to the tower above. In a few minutes, it would be ringing, then the feasting would begin, then the ball.

And still, there was no sign of the Westergaards. They had been due to arrive the day before, but a storm had detained them. She could see billowing sails coming into the harbor, and she hoped that it was finally them.

Anna forced herself not to worry as the final preparations were made, instead watching Kristin stuffing the blanket around Nikko’s ears and neck. He only fussed a little as he gnawed on Anna’s knuckle, but she was sure she didn’t have too long before he would be howling with hunger. He was only demanding when he was hungry, and then, with the combined gusto of his father and mother.

Kristoff and the boys climbed down, taking their places with the family, all of them grinning and giggling as they pulled the thick rope, sounding the bell. As cheers rang through the air, she felt her husband pull her closer, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head, seeming to sense her quiet melancholy.

Later, after the initial hubbub had died down, Anna finally got her wish.

As it was the Yule Ball, the guests were not announced, but people nevertheless took notice of their entrance. Felix looked a little nervous, smiling and giving a small wave as he made his way through the parting crowd of citizens, soldiers, ice harvesters, and a handful of visiting dignitaries. They bowed and curtsied respectfully, smiles and whispers following in his wake. He finally made his way to where Anna sat with Kristoff. When she stood, her husband right behind her, Felix bowed low.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice managing to be clear and strong. “Thank you so much for the invitation. I’m sorry we’re a little late. There was a storm, then an issue with my horse.” His eyes glanced up a little hopefully.

Anna gave him a stern gaze that only held for a few quick seconds before her smile seeped into her eyes, then her face. “I suppose we can forgive you.”

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a sudden shifting of movement in the crowd.

What had been a very polite and sincere respect for Felix paled in comparison to what followed. People bowed low, almost to the floor, as low as they had earlier bowed for their own royal family. There were beaming smiles all around, people exclaiming softly and excitedly.

The silk dress bustled around her in layers and layers was the same purple as the Arendelle flag, a fact of which Anna was certain was intentional. Her hair was in an elegant pile on top of her head, and her eyes sparkled as she looked around, her own bright smile matching those of the partygoers. Here and there, she stopped to greet someone she knew, gradually making her way to stand beside her cousin. The bright candlelight gleamed in her eyes, which perfectly matched the emeralds gleaming from her tiara. She looked every bit the princess she was, finally able to fully embrace her heritage.

Anna broke free of Kristoff, throwing her arms around Julia and squeezing the girl tight before Kristoff lifted them both off the floor as they shrieked, delightfully unrefined, with laughter.

“Sorry, Felix,” Julia said, still giggling, as she was set back on her feet. “I keep telling you, I’m no great lady.”

“And I keep telling you you’re wrong.” Felix waved her off flippantly, quickly slipping back into his comfortable role in the castle.

Behind them, the ball had resumed. The focus had shifted back to the merriment, and from the corners of her eyes, Anna could see several of her children converging. Kristin led the charge, marching with a sense of purpose and a wide smile crossing her face. In her haste, she nearly tripped over her own healed shoes before kicking them aside and running the rest of the way. She had always been taller, despite being the younger of the two, and now her long arms wrapped around Julia in what must have been a crushing hug.

Anna suspected that the tears in Julia’s eyes were not from any physical pain, so much as an overflow of emotion.

The twins were not far behind, greeting Julia excitedly as they chatted about Nikko, who was long since in bed, and how big he was, and how he had the same red hair as them. Oskar drifted along behind, a small smile on his face. He appeared almost shy as Julia wrapped him in a warm hug. Anna watched with a smile on her face, wrapping her fingers around Kristoff’s as she watched Kristin greet Felix with much more decorum, giggling softly.

“Oh, Prince Felix,” Kristoff mimicked in her ear, too soft for the children to hear, “how _very_ lucky you were able to make it!” He scoffed while Anna tried in vain to control herself. Giggles were threatening to bubble up from her giddiness. “Elias better not let me down. Any boy that tries to charm one of my daughters has to get through him, and then through me.”

Almost as if he had heard his name, Elias finally emerged from the crowd. Anna sobered immediately. As much as Kristoff might be looking forward to this moment, she was not. She had barely spoken to Elias about Julia since he had returned. She had only been reassured by Elsa that, one way or another, things would work themselves out.

Anna watched her son cross slowly toward the little group. Hard as he was to miss, he seemed to manage to carefully slip into the conversation with little notice or exclamation to his presence. She watched as Julia regarded him with a small smile, and he gave her one in return. She was astounded as he nodded to Felix before asking if there was anything he needed before he settled in after the ball, knowing it had been a long and late trip.

“I’ll be damned.” Kristoff sounded part annoyed, part impressed. “I thought for sure…”

“Maybe he’s finally grown out of it,” Anna mused. “He’s such a good boy, after all.” She wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist. His eyes met her, and they were warm, full of humor. She wasn’t really surprised. Half of his attitude toward fatherhood was to take everything with as much laughter as was possible. “Takes after his papa.”

“Careful now,” Kristoff warned teasingly, “this kind of conversation was how we wound up with Nikko.”

“I’m still breastfeeding,” Anna reminded him, a coy smile tugging at her lips. “Good luck with that.”

“Hey, I’ve done it before, and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

“The two of you should be locked in a room and not let out until everyone else is gone.” Anna leapt at least a foot into the air, landing more or less in Kristoff's arms, scowling at her sister as her husband howled with laughter. “Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re allowed out in public.”

“Both of you are mean.” Anna detached herself from her husband before she began the task of shooing her younger children, who were now looking at their aunt and parents, confused. “Go on, you can talk to Julia tomorrow. You need to get to bed.”

The twins groaned, and Anna was sure Axel was opening his mouth to argue, when Oskar simply said, “Yes, Mama.”

He reached for a hug and Anna held him tightly, whispering, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. And thank you.”

“Well, somebody's got to do it, and Elias and Kristin are too busy.” Oskar’s voice was barely above a whisper and full of conspiratorial mirth. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll keep them in line.”

He pulled away as if nothing had been said, as he’d done so many times before, never noticed by any of his siblings, or even Kristoff. But Elsa gave him a quick hug and a wink before shuffling him off to his father, who had now turned to start herding the twins toward the stairs. The sisters watched as the boy quickly caught up with his father, exchanged a few soft words with Axel and Anita, who looked a little chagrined, then headed up the stairs. The unusually quiet twins followed their younger brother with no further argument.

“And you’re sure he’s not somehow yours?” Anna teased. “Some magical baby that just appeared that’s really your child?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Elsa shook her head, amused. “But unfortunately, no.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Yes. Because if he was mine, I’d have stolen him back a long time ago.”

“You know, you’re not supposed to pick favorites.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you love ‘em all the same.” Anna rolled her eyes, knowing all of them had a special soft spot for Oskar.

“I do! Oskar is just my spirit creature.”

“Oh, geeze.”

“You know, we can hear you.” Anna’s head snapped toward Kristin, who stood with crossed arms, drawn up to her full height, a small scowl furrowing her brow.

Elsa giggled. “See, this is why I can’t pick favorites.” Kristin raised an eyebrow at her aunt. “You’re just like your papa, but also your mama. Why anyone would want to pick an argument with you is beyond me.” She waved a dismissive hand as a little smile pulled at the corner of Kristin’s lips. At her side, Julia was giggling softly. Felix looked both curious and amused, and Elias was just smiling.

“When you want to defend something, some idea or,” she continued, glancing so quickly at Elias that Anna almost wondered if she had imagined it, “someone, you do it with so much heart and conviction. It’s one of a thousand things I love about you, dear.” And Elsa hoisted her chin regally into the air while Kristin relaxed. “Now, you should go dance. You’re young. Young people ought to dance.”

“I’ll dance with you,” Felix piped up hopefully, and a giggling Kristin disappeared with him into the throng of waltzers.

Kristoff had reappeared just as Elsa finally got around to greeting a still laughing Julia, and he shook his head at Elias.

“I think you’ve been replaced, son.” Kristoff gestured toward the stairs. “Oskar got them upstairs in record time.” When Elias just shrugged, Kristoff frowned. The pair of them exchanged a series of looks, none of which Anna really understood, but after a moment, Kristoff just shrugged. “You’re too grown now for me to tell you what to do.”

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully enough. Anna danced with her husband, who to his credit only grumbled a little bit, watching as the crowd gradually thinned as people began to leave. Elias danced twice, once with his sister and once, to her further astonishment, with Julia, before he disappeared for a while into the crowd. 

Normally, she would be bidding her guests farewell by now, but she noticed that Elias had stationed himself nearest the door, and was shaking hands and smiling as people departed for their homes.

At some point, some villager that Julia knew well was leaving, and she rushed to Elias’s side to say goodbye, and appeared never to have left. Anna watched over Kristoff’s shoulder as the pair smiled and nodded and chatted with the guests. Any animosity between them was invisible, replaced by something more akin to the way they had been before.

“They’re just so natural,” Anna mused, not really intending to speak aloud.

“Hmm?” Kristoff had his face buried in her neck. The few people who remained were a few closer friends and acquaintances, and he had no reason to hide his open affection. It made her smile.

“Elias and Julia. Have you been watching them?”

“Mm-hmm.” The hand at her waist gave a squeeze. His fingertips were spread wide, only just above what could be deemed appropriate for the semi-public setting, and she shivered when his thumb rubbed softly against her ribs.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“Mm-mm.” The grunt was a little louder this time.

“Think we should release Elias and Julia from their duties?”

Kristoff sighed, finally moving his face to roll his eyes at the ceiling. “Fine. I _guess_ it would be the polite thing to do. The quicker we get everyone out of here, the quicker we get to bed.”

* * *

Elias felt nervous— _had_ felt nervous, ever since Julia appeared to say goodnight to the Olsens. Guest after guest had then filed by to tell her hello and goodbye, and Elias didn’t feel it appropriate to abandon her, so he stayed. It was uncomfortable for a moment, but Julia’s ability to carry on as if nothing was wrong was formidable, and it quickly became more comfortable. 

He didn’t speak to her directly, though, hadn’t even when they’d danced. He’d had to muster every ounce of courage to ask the words, “Do you want to dance?” That had been it, though, and his tongue had glued to the top of his mouth and became instantly useless once his hand settled on her narrow waist. 

For her part, she hadn’t looked directly at him, but her movements had been easy as he moved through the steps. The lack of conversation was odd, even a little uncomfortable, but Julia had hummed along with the tune, filling the void with something, at least. She didn't seem angry, instead acting almost unusually shy.

It wasn't any better when his mother shooed them away from the door, a small twinkle in her eye. Julia had quickly disappeared into the crowd, and he hadn’t seen her since. He’d briefly met Felix, who seemed to be looking for her, as well, and had shrugged, wondering if she’d gone up for the night. It wasn’t unlike Julia to excuse herself from a party early.

Now, he was sweating. He had excused himself from a conversation with a pair of harvesters, claiming the need for fresh air, finding the balcony where the twins usually hid and closing the door behind him. He cursed himself silently as he paced, loosening the cravat at his neck, the tight jacket feeling constricting as he wished for his normal clothes.

It was torture. How was he supposed to tell her the truth—that he was sorry, that he was stupid, that he was hopelessly in love with her—when he couldn’t form a complete sentence?

He hadn't been there for long before quick footsteps met his ears. He took a deep breath. The balcony he’d picked was one of his favorites for hiding, off a seldom traveled hallway, and only a few people knew he came here.

Only one right now, he reasoned, who might be looking for him, and then she was there.

To her credit, she didn’t look confused. She looked annoyed, a little hurt, just a bit haughty, and directly into his eyes with such intensity he had no choice but to gaze right back.

“You can’t tell me you’re _still_ mad at me.”

Elias started slightly, a little shocked. She wasted no time in getting straight to the point. Typical Julia, always kind, but blunt when needed. He supposed now it was a product of her childhood.

“Christ, Elias,” she sighed, “are you really still angry? I'm sorry. I was a _child,_ Elias. Maybe I made a mistake, but when have I ever claimed to be perfect?”

Could he blame her for being exasperated? Was she to be blamed for any of it? Was she to be punished by him for hiding the truth, when she’d needed so much time just to brace herself?

And she _had_ told him, eventually.

  
  


_Breakfast finished, Elias, Kristin, and Julia made their way outside as the twins were packed off for their daily lessons. It was quiet, all of them silently wondering what was happening in the Queen’s study. Whatever had been in the letter the princes had received, it had kept them all occupied for some time._

_“Maybe their father is sick,” Kristin said softly, picking at her nails. “Or, the sickness is worse? It could be a lot of things.”_

_But she shared some look with Julia, one he didn’t understand, that seemed to offer some other explanation._

_It was silent for a few more minutes before there was the sound of running footsteps, and Prince Felix appeared, skidding to a halt in the gravel. He glanced between the three of them, then at Julia._

_“I need to speak with you.” Felix’s words were, oddly, directed at Julia. “We’ve had a letter from my father.”_

_Julia grew pale, and Elias felt some irritation rise up in his chest. What the hell was going on?_

_“I’ll be right back,” Julia promised, and the pair of them disappeared around a hedge._

_“What’s going on?” Elias grasped Kristin’s arm harder than he meant to, and winced when she gave him a hard swat to release her. “Sorry. I just…” He looked closely at Kristin, noting the worry in her eyes. “You don’t look surprised. What’s going on?”_

_Kristin bit her lip, then looked back down at her lap. “I really can’t say.” Her voice was hushed, almost a little ashamed. “I’m sorry.”_

_“What do you mean, you can’t say?” Elias felt his irritation switching to full blown anger. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve never kept anything from me, and now I feel like I’m getting everything secondhand. What could Felix possibly have to say to Julia that he can’t say in front of us?”_

_“Can you just drop it? Please?” Kristin’s eyes were pleading, her tone begging. “It probably doesn’t have anything to do with either of us.”_

_“Then what—” Elias gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll ask you again, what the_ hell _is going on? And don’t you dare lie to me. You know how much I hate it when people don’t tell me things.”_

_Kristin was as white as a sheet as he said the words, and he realized from the darting of her eyes that Julia must have reappeared. When he turned around, he saw her, the girl he loved, the girl he’d danced with just a month before, clutching tightly to Felix’s hand._

_He was on his feet, hands balled into fists, before he knew what he was doing. Kristin was shouting his name, but he was almost as deaf as he was blind to anything but Felix, and his hands were wrapped in the fine fabric, pushing him back up against a nearby wall before he knew what he was doing._

_“Elias!” Julia’s voice cut into his consciousness like a knife. “Elias, stop! It’s not what you think, I promise! Just put him down!”_

_“If it’s not what I think,” he snarled, “why do you care so much?”_

_He felt Julia’s hand on his arm, and he dropped Felix as if he were suddenly made of fire, head snapping toward Julia. She looked petrified as much as she looked furious._

_“What?”_

_“He…” Julia trailed off, and her hand dropped down to her side. Her face was anguished as she spoke. “Felix is my cousin,” she said quietly._

_If a pin had dropped, it would have sounded like a cannon in the silence that followed._

_“He’s—” Elias staggered back, looking between Felix and Julia._

_Both of them with the same color hair, the same eyes, same nose, same build._

_Cousin._

_Her fucking cousin?_

_He didn’t mean to speak the words aloud, but he did, anyway._

_“Elias,” Kristin scolded, but Felix was shaking his head._

_“No, he’s right to be upset.”_

_“You knew.” Elias rounded on his sister, who took a step back, her eyes brimming with tears. “You_ knew, _and you didn’t tell me?”_

_“I haven’t known for very long,” she tried to explain, but he cut her off, turning instead to Julia._

_“You lied to me,” he said, disbelief in his tone. “You lied for…” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing for a moment while he tried to gather his thoughts. “You’ve always been lying.”_

_“What was I supposed to do?” Julia raised her hands in frustration. “What would you have said?”_

_“I would have said it’s fine!”_

_“Oh, of course,” she snapped, “because you’re reacting so well now.”_

_“It’s not the lie, it’s—” The words almost made it out, but he stopped them._

_Still, she knew what he meant. Julia had always been good at reading between the lines. “It’s me,” she said, her voice a little hollow. “I knew it. I knew you would never accept it.”_

_More silence._

_“I need to speak to my mother,” he said brusquely, striding past the Westergaards and his sister, back into the castle._

_“Elias, wait! It’s not Mama’s fault, you can’t—”_

_“I can do whatever I damn well please!” A few startled servants scattered out of his way as he stormed down the halls toward the Queen’s study._

_“This is ridiculous!” Julia still sounded furious, but there was fear in her tone now. “You haven’t even had five minutes to think about this!”_

_“I don’t need time to think. You lied. You all lied!”_

_Unable to be anywhere near any of them, he broke into a run as he reached the hallway._

_“Elias, stop!” Kristin was shouting after him. “You’re acting like an idiot!”_

_He knocked briefly on the closed door before bursting in, taking a breath, and addressing his mother._

_“Please,_ please _tell me this is some crazy joke. Then we can all have a good laugh and get ready for the festival. Because it has to be a joke, Mama.” He crossed to stand in front of his mother, ready to drop to his knees to beg if he had to. “They’re all joking, right?”_

_“It’s not a joke, Elias,” she whispered. He felt his face fall, then squared his shoulders and reset himself. He wouldn’t let her see how wounded he was. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”_

_“Sorry? You’re_ sorry? _You lied to me!”_

_“Elias, we had to. At least for a while. It was the best way to keep her safe—”_

_“And who would I have told?”_

_“Me, for a start,” Kristin interjected, but he ignored her._

_“I thought you trusted me.” All those years of training, all the wisdom she’d imparted to him over the years, the responsibilities he bore that none of his siblings would ever have to, all felt pointless now. She didn’t trust him so much, after all. “Who knew? Other than Ivor and Papa.”_

_“Mattias and Elsa.” His mother was crying now, and it was hard not to let it soften him. “We couldn’t tell anyone else, we promised Julia we—”_

_“You made promises to a little girl and lied to your own children?” Elias’s face wore an expression of contempt now. “What kind of mother lies to her children for someone from—”_

_“That’s enough!”_

_Elias took a step back from his mother, eyes widening as he stared as his father. His expression was thunderous._

_“Nothing,” he growled,_ “nothing _gives you the right to speak to your mother like that.”_

_Elias felt his face fall. Nothing was worse than this, than being on the receiving end of his father’s full fury. “I didn’t think—”_

_“That’s pretty obvious. Your mother followed advice. If you want to go after someone, go after me. Or Mattias, or your aunt.” He did that thing where he drew himself up to his full height, and with his broad shoulders, stronger than Elias’s own, and enraged expression, he was nothing short of terrifying. It wasn’t often that his father was this angry, and that he was the cause of it, having thrown such callous and hurtful words at his mother, made Elias want to cry._

_His father was still speaking. “Your mother carried you and birthed you. She gave you life, and you ask what kind of mother she is? She’s the kind of mother who has had to sacrifice watching her children’s first steps because she was stuck in a meeting to make sure half the country didn’t starve. She stayed up late with you when you were sick and woke up early to take care of this country the next day.”_

_This was worse than fury. This was disappointment of the highest order._

_“You’re letting prejudice blind you, son. You always have, when it comes to the Westergaards. But they’re our closest neighbors, and in case you haven’t noticed, Leopold and Felix haven’t tried to kill any of us or take over the country. Neither has Julia. She’s the same person you’ve always known. All that’s changed is the name.”_

_Elias’s couldn't stop the narrowing of his eyes, and his father stepped closer, eyes a little sad and voice disappointed. “Someone from where, Elias? What were you about to say?”_

_Elias couldn’t look at Julia where she stood, crying silently and clutching tightly at Kristin’s hand. He suddenly felt very small and young, and he had no answer for his father that he was unashamed to give._

_He left, managing only to walk down the hall, before running, as fast as his feet could carry him, not stopping until he’d reached his room and slammed the door behind him._

_Then, finally, he let himself cry._

Fuck, she’d asked him a question.

“No.” Her surprised blink told him she hadn’t necessarily expected an answer, let alone a straight one. “No, I’m not angry anymore. And I shouldn’t have been mad in the first place. It was stupid.”

Julia’s face shifted into a tiny frown as she stared down at her hands. “You could have been a _little_ mad.” Her voice was soft, and he could hear the hurt more strongly now. “But you didn’t even stay to say goodbye. You just ran away.”

“I didn’t run away,” he rationalized, “I just needed time to think.”

“And you couldn’t have waited a few days?” Her arms crossed over her chest and she raised an eyebrow, turning her gaze to the sky, to the lights that glowed there. “What’s disappearing off into the woods to avoid a problem, if it’s not running away?”

He let himself take her in fully for the first time, having avoided it all night. She was dressed more regally than he had ever seen her, the finest silks billowing over what had to be several petticoats. She wore a tiara on her head, the one he vaguely recalled that she had disassembled and brought with her when she’d run away from home.

Even in profile, she was stunning. She always had been. 

And, even though she wasn’t looking at him, he could still feel the expectation of an answer to her question. Julia was never one to sugarcoat past the occasional single coat, and she wasn’t being easy now.

He didn’t have an answer for that, so he turned his back, sighing heavily as he gazed through the frosted glass of the open door. He didn’t recall leaving it that way. Perhaps Julia had.

“I told you it was stupid.” He stepped forward, closing the door. The shapes of pictures on the walls and a hall table within were fuzzy from the frost. “I didn’t mean to upset you, that wasn’t the point. I just didn’t know what to do and I needed time to think and the only thing I could think of was getting out. I felt like I was suffocating. It was stupid, I know. It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” 

She was silent, so he continued, his back to her as he stared at the patterns in the frosted glass. Looking at her would only make it harder to speak in an articulate fashion. “I just felt like it somehow meant _you_ hated _me,_ which I know is stupid. I’ve had that knocked into me by my aunt. At least _she_ think it’s stupid.” More silence. “Maybe not. Maybe you do hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” she said, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. She almost sounded afraid. Her voice shook slightly, reminding him of a much younger Julia, the one who had been startled by loud noises and six rambunctious children. “I love you, Elias.”

The shock froze him for a moment, then his head turned to look at her. The new shock of what he saw compelled him to spin the rest of the way around, taking an automatic step forward.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you, boy.”

Elias felt his gut wrench at the sight of Julia, an arm twisted behind her and a knife at her throat, held by a man he recognized from a brief encounter many years ago. He was older now, hair more gray than the color of the girl he held captive, but the green eyes were the same he’d seen that day, and so was the snarl on his face.

Hans.

* * *

Julia had promised him an extraordinary Christmas if he came with her to Arendelle, but Felix would have gone for bland if it meant seeing Kristin again.

The letters they’d been exchanging hadn’t done justice to the shift between them, he realized, sweeping her up in his arms for a dance, watching her wide smile fill her face. For as tall as she was, she was remarkably light on her feet, her height offering magnificent extension to her movements as he spun her out quickly. They’d been dancing all night, and he was certain there would be gossip and rumors tomorrow, but he didn’t care.

After all, rumors stopped being rumors when they became fact, and he hoped that would soon be the case.

There had been a brief moment earlier when he’d thought things would be uncomfortable, and maybe with another girl they may have been, but the princess’s good nature always won out, and she’d immediately launched into the topic from their last letter, Byron verses Keates.

He kept a close eye on Julia, just as he’d promised his father he would. She danced with him once, rolling her eyes when he teased her about dancing with Elias, then again when she insisted she didn't need a guard dog.

He left out that feeling he’d had all night. He was probably being overly worried. Still, he had a rather unsettling feeling of being watched. More than that, he felt monitored, as if he were being waited upon for… something.

Kristin was currently in the middle of a recollection about greeting her brother with a slap across the face when he’d finally come home that contained much more detail than her letters. He’d hoped for this, keeping mostly quiet until she arrived at a part of her story that involved him.

“Then he said he was actually going to write to you,” she continued, “which is completely mad—”

“He did write to me.” Felix almost laughed at the expression of shock that crossed her face. “It was about a month ago.”

“And you’re telling me this _now?”_

“I wanted to see the look on your face,” he said, smirking when she flushed. “It didn’t disappoint.”

“Well?” Her fingers tightened in his grasp. “What did he say?”

“He said he was sorry for almost punching my face in and for the things he said about our family, which I thought was rather big of him,” he began, making Kristin roll her eyes. “Then he said he just hoped we wouldn’t rush into anything, but that he understood he’d been something of a barrier, and that he was making it clear that he was getting out of the way. His words, not mine.”

“Wow.” 

“Yes, he—”

His eye caught on something again, and he wasn’t sure what. For what felt like the dozenth time, he scanned the ballroom carefully. There was no one he recognized, but again, he had that feeling of someone observing him, and not in a good way.

“Felix?” Taking a sharp breath, Felix turned his gaze back to the pair of imploring brown eyes that were so close to his own.

“Sorry.” He could downplay it, or be honest with her. “I just keep feeling like someone’s watching me.”

At this, Kristin laughed outright. “Of course someone’s watching you. Half the ballroom’s watching to see if you’re brave enough to make a move.” He scoffed, and she grinned. “Are you?”

“Not with your father watching,” he murmured, spinning her again.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was nothing but the feeling of many eyes on his foreign person, maybe a few disliking what they saw.

He _hated_ that he looked like his father, like his uncles, like half of his family.

He focused back on Kristin, who was giggling again, her lovely face flushed with exertion. Realizing that they’d been on their feet for several consecutive dances, he held out at arm at the end of the current one.

“I’m exhausted,” she finally admitted once they were sitting on the edge of the room, a delicate crystal punch glass held lightly in her hands. “I should probably go to bed. What about you?”

He tried, he really did, but his face flamed up like a ripe cherry at the words. To her merit, Kristin giggled. “Sorry, I could have phrased that better. Retire. I should probably retire for the evening.” She paused, seeming to consider something. “I’m sure you’d like to fetch your cousin and retire, as well.”

“She’s around here somewhere.” Last time he’d looked, he’d found her standing near the exit with Elias, cheerfully bidding goodbye to the people he knew she missed desperately. It had been easy to leave her to her own devices next to someone as tall and broad as Kristin’s brother.

But she wasn’t there now. Where was she?

“Well, I’m off.” Kristin set aside her glass, rising to her feet, and he followed her automatically.

There it was _again._ Who the hell… 

Then, he was distracted by shining brown eyes that stayed locked on his as she dipped into a low curtsey. “Good evening, Your Highness,” she murmured, her voice demure but her eyes full of mischief.

“Good night, Princess.” He bowed in return, eyes catching on the Prince Consort as he straightened.

He was watching closely as Felix addressed his daughter, and Felix felt oddly relieved.

Just like Kristin had said, of _course_ he was being watched. Of course Kristin’s father would keep a close eye on her. Felix suspected that, though not truly his _favorite,_ the bond Kristin had with her father, one forged in ice and sweat and hard work, made it harder for Kristoff to let her go. Hell, under normal circumstances it would have been difficult for the man, but being who he was, Felix was sure he was making it impossible, even if the Prince was nothing if not polite to him. He even seemed to like Felix, just a little.

She was gone then, disappearing in a blink of an eye and a rustle of blue silk.

Though he was certain now that the mystery of the uneasy feeling of being watched was now solved, the mystery of where Julia had vanished off to still remained, and he’d promised.

Unlike some members of his family, Felix took a promise to take care of his relatives. In this case, it was the cousin he’d only just found and whom he already regarded as something closer to a sister. His siblings, his father, Simon’s children and Simon himself were already all dedicated to her.

Simon had wept tears of joy on meeting her, lifting her up off the ground and swinging her around as if she were a small girl.

“I fear you’ve found a branch of our family that embraces,” he had apologized, setting her back down on her feet.

Felix had known that Julia had been nervous to meet more extended family, a little leery by nature of such people, but she had bravely stepped back for another hug from Simon. He’d looked shocked, hugging her back until she stepped away, grinning as she said, “Have you _met_ the Queen of Arendelle?”

Simon had laughed. “Ah, yes. She does give a very warm hug when she’s happy to see you.”

Julia seemed to finally be healing. He knew from his correspondence with Kristin that Julia had been left a little broken, though in remarkably good repair for all she had endured. His own experiences had taught him how terrible her father had been to her.

If he lost her now, he wouldn’t only be breaking a promise, he’d be incurring the wrath and disappointment of at least a dozen relatives.

He’d have to go straight to the person who saw her last.

Elias was loitering unsuspectingly, impressive for someone of his stature, next to a dessert table. Felix took a deep breath, trying to stand as tall as he could without looking ridiculous.

“Have you seen Julia?” Felix glanced around again. “I seem to have lost her.”

At this, Elias chuckled. Felix relaxed a little. The last time they’d seen each other, Elias had hoisted him off his feet and seemed ready to smash his teeth in. Laughter wasn’t exactly what he had expected, but he recalled the words Elias had written, marveling that they might actually be true.

_What I said, perhaps in not so many or specific words, was, I believe, embarrassingly clear. I was wrong in them, and I hope you can forgive me._

“Not hard to do.” Elias shrugged, seeming almost a little apprehensive, himself. “She tends to wander off at these things.”

“I know,” Felix grumbled. It was comforting that it wasn’t some new behavior, that she’d always been like this.

“She probably went up to bed already,” Elias shrugged. “Kai put you across from each other. Up the stairs to the third floor, first left. She's in the third room on the right down that hall. She’s in the blue room. It’s where they took her when she first came here. I thought it was ironic, but Kai said she requested it specifically when she was asked.”

“Third floor, first left, third room to the right. Got it.” He gave Elias a small bow in gratitude. “Thanks.”

Elias waved him away, looking almost embarrassed, before he returned his attention to the tray closest to him.

Up the stairs.

Third floor, first left down a hallway.

Third door on the right.

Knocking merited no reply. He tried again, calling her name this time, and still, nothing. Taking a deep breath and hoping he hadn’t somehow made a mistake, he reached for the handle and opened the door.

The room was empty. He recognized Julia’s trunks, packed for what she had warned could be an extended stay in very cold weather. They rested at the foot of the bed, untouched. He knew she preferred to unpack herself, so she must not have been here.

So where was she?

Back in the hall, he crossed to his own room, finding it in a similar state, but with his belongings already unpacked by a servant. No sign of his cousin lingered in the room.

Back down the hall. Turn the opposite way, and back down. There was a long hall he knew of with a balcony where he’d once chatted with his father. Deserted.

Back to the ballroom, and still, nothing. He’d been gone long enough that most of the guests had dispersed.

Inhaling sharply, he turned his head. Something caught his eye, a flash of red.

Nothing there, just a few lingering guests.

Someone watching again.

The Prince Consort was paying him no attention, seeming singularly determined to get his dozing sister-in-law out of her chair.

Kristoff wasn’t watching him. Someone else was.

His stomach turned a little as he finally identified the sensation.

He was overreacting. That was insane. How would he even be here? How would he not have been recognized?

But who else had the ability to say nothing, to simply look at him and have it be enough to make his blood curdle?

Where the _hell_ was Julia?

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hans is confronted, leading to a reconciliation. A new king visits Arendelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for descriptions of violence, unbased slut shaming, blood, mentions of poisoning and a death. Also, ends with a little Christmas smut. 
> 
> So, you know, a bit of a rollercoaster. A lot happens, but I left it in one big chunk. Drawing it out felt awkward. It’s the end, though! Just the epilogue after this. Enjoy! 

  
  


The last of the guests to return home were gone, leaving only a few visitors who were staying in the castle to stagger up the stairs. He had lost track of Elias a while ago, and Kristin had even retired, giving Felix a small curtsy, and each of her parents a kiss on the cheek. Servants were clearing away the last of the party debris, and Anna, giggling with a wine glass in her hand, was all alone in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with herself. Elsa had long since fallen asleep in a chair, and Kristoff tried now to rouse her. She grumbled at him and curled up a bit more tightly, doing her best to ignore him as he heard footsteps behind him.

“Have you seen Julia?” Kristoff could hear the concern in Felix’s voice. “I haven't seen her in a while.”

“Maybe,” Kristoff suggested, trying to pick his sister out of the chair and deftly dodging a kick toward his shins, “she went to bed. Maybe we should all go to bed.”

“Still have stockings to do,” Elsa muttered. 

“You're going to fall asleep and wake up with a crick in your neck.”

“Won't blame you.”

“Yes, you will.”

“I checked her room already.” Felix interrupted their banter, his voice edging toward panic. “She wasn't there. None of her luggage was touched yet.” The young man’s brow was furrowed, and Kristoff wondered what had him so upset.

“So, let's go find her.” Elsa pried her eyes open, pushing herself out of her seat. “All the better. Then I can do stockings and go to bed. Has anyone seen Elias?” When she was met with silence, she rolled her eyes. “They're probably hiding out on the balcony.”

“Right! Balcony, hiding.” Felix breathed a sigh of relief. “She's always doing that. It’s fine. I’m sure she knows hiding places here I could never find. I can always find her at home.”

“Have many balls back home?” Kristoff forced himself to stay civil. He was still struggling with his daughter being old enough to have a man chasing after her.

“Two or three. She always winds up in the library or some gallery. I’m sure that’s where she is. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Twice now in under a minute, the young man had used the words, “it’s fine.”

“Are you worried?”

Felix was quiet for a moment as they walked, following Elsa, who seemed to have finally rallied. “I’ve just had the oddest feeling of being watched all night,” he said quietly, and Kristoff frowned.

“Who would be watching you?”

“I thought it was you, to be honest,” he said, laughing nervously, “but a few minutes ago, there was no one, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you.” 

Something about his words made Kristoff feel a twinge of worry. Elsa had overheard, and her pace quickened as she said, “The balcony where the twins like to hide.”

Of course. It was a favorite hiding spot of all their children, not having an access location that was straightforward. One had to go through two doors to find it, and it was a place Elias and Julia both knew well.

Kristoff could hear muffled voices on the balcony, but as he reached for the door out, something caught his eye.

A table beneath an old portrait of some long dead king held a vase, like always. Unlike always, there was a prosthetic of some sort, the kind one would use to change the appearance of one’s face, and a very convincing but apparently fake beard.

He frowned, waving at Elsa and Felix to get back from the door as he leaned closer to listen. Neither heeded him, and they leaned close enough just long enough to hear a few snarled words that were a dead giveaway to who was on the balcony.

Elias, voice calm and imploring.

Julia, silent but clearly present. 

Hans, as vile as ever.

Kristoff could see Felix’s fist clench. The prince began to reach for the door, but Kristoff held him back. Careful not to make any movements that would reveal the three of them, he managed to glimpse just enough through the frosted glass to witness a scene that made his blood boil and run cold at the same time.  
  


Julia, one arm held tightly behind her to keep her restrained, and Hans with a knife to her neck.

* * *

Elias’s face looked tortured as he said, very softly, “You don't need to hurt anyone.”

Hans chuckled, the sound gravely. Julia could feel the press of the knife against her throat ease just slightly as he said, “Oh, don't worry. I won't hurt her. She's much more valuable to me alive than dead. You, on the other hand, don't factor into my plans at all, so keep your distance, boy.”

Julia shifted slightly, in pain from the angle of her arm, but also needing to a slightly better position. When Hans scowled at her, she simply said, “You're cutting off circulation in my arm.”

“You'll live,” he snapped. “Keep your mouth shut, brat.”

She wanted so desperately to snipe back, but she kept quiet. Elias was starting to talk, and it was enough to keep Hans’s attention less on her and more on Elias. Her hand had shifted just enough that she could feel the edge of the pocket hidden in the folds of her dress. Her Uncle Ivor had insisted on the pocket and its contents, and now she was grateful.

“You're not doing anybody any good if you kill either of us.” If Elias noticed her shift in posture, he didn't let on. In any case, she just prayed he kept Hans talking just long enough for her to take action. “Just let her go. What good is any of this going to do?”

“You’re that stupid.” Hans laughed, the sound almost making her shiver. She kept it in. She wanted him focused on Elias.

“Maybe.”

“With your father, it’s lucky you have a brain. Still, I’d think the son of a power grubby laborer would understand the need for money, boy,” Hans growled. “Enough to get me anywhere I like.”

Julia was amazed. Elias showed no fury, keeping his gaze and stance steady and nonthreatening. The jab at his father would have no doubt infuriated him. It enraged her to no end.

“If you want money,” Elias said, his voice calm, “I can give you that. Thousands. All you have to do is put down the knife and let her go. Just give her to me, I'll give you what you want, and you can leave.”

“Really? Just like that?” She saw Hans roll his eyes, the knife shifting until it was resting against her chest. She kept creeping her fingers into the folds of her dress. She was nearly there. “What’s she worth to you, anyway?”

“She’s family.”

“She’s a whore is what she is. I watched how she threw herself at you.” Hand scoffed. Julia bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself not to physically recoil. He was turning out to be more vile than even her father. “You must think I was born yesterday.”

“Money first, then.” Was he really trying to make a deal, she wondered, or just giving her time? He couldn’t know what she had in her pocket, but maybe, with his differing vantage point, he could see the lowering of her hand.

“And where would a child get that kind of money at this time of night?”

“Floorboards in my bedroom.” He was lying. That was Julia’s trick, not his. “I stole it from my parents. Just in case, you know. It’ll take me ten minutes.” Another lie. Elias couldn’t steal if his life depended on it. 

But he was a poor liar, and one way or the other, he was putting on quite a convincing show, keeping in what she was sure were almost impossible to contain reactions to Hans’s continued barrage of insults, so who knew. 

Hans laughed at this. “He does have a brain, after all. Your fool parents never noticed, eh? Neither did mine. Unfortunately, I had brothers who loved ratting me out. None of your siblings know?” He jerked his head toward the door at his back. “What about the other one?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Elias managed to look apologetic as she carefully curled her fingers around the hard metal in her pocket. “I have several, you know.”

“The other one who looks like your bastard father.” Elias’s eyes finally flashed at this, making Hans laugh. Going after Kristin was a step too far, and he’d finally evoked a reaction.

While Hans was distracted, she slowly and carefully began to withdraw her hand. He was paying her no attention now, all his energy focused on insulting Elias, especially now that he’d gotten a small rise out of him. 

“The man too stupid to notice his son has been gone as long as you have. Who knows,” he sneered, wrenching Julia’s arm a bit harder, his words directed toward her though his eyes were not, “maybe you really are the slut your father said you were and everyone just thinks you’re off fucking him. So desperate for attention, you throw yourself at the first person you meet. I bet you spread you legs just as fast as you can. You’re a whore, just like your mother.”

Never in her life, not even with everything her father had put her through, had Julia felt so blindly furious, but she could finally do something about it.

“My mother,” she snarled, feeling her way to just the right spot, “is the Queen of Arendelle. You’re just the bastard that shovels shit for my uncle.”

Everything after that happened quickly. 

She quickly pulled the gun, loaded with only one shot, aiming at Hans as best she could with one arm restricted behind her. It hit him in the thigh and he howled, distracted enough to allow Julia to shift from his grasp.

She heard the balcony door burst open, but she was focused on Hans, who was lunging toward her now, knife pointed toward her. There were footsteps behind her as she scrambled back.

A strong hand grasped her arm, pulling her away from Hans, and she tumbled back behind her savior, watching in horror as Hans went for Kristoff. 

“Even better.” God, was there even an ounce of goodness in him? Hans was pure evil as he turned to Kristoff, knife ready. “Maybe I won’t make it out of here, but I’ll take your worthless, bastard ass with me.”

But then Hans was slipping on ice that had appeared from nowhere, knife slashing through the air as Felix appeared, going for his legs. Hans tried to take a swipe at either of the men, stumbling over his nephew, but Kristoff was stronger and faster, and had Hans knocked backward over another patch of ice. The knife tumbled from his grasp as he tried to right himself, eyes suddenly going wide.

Turning her head, Julia saw something even more frightening than Hans.

There was a tight swirl of ice gathering around Elsa, whose eyes were narrowed to slits, hands reaching out in front of her as she stepped toward Hans. Her lips were pulled back into a fierce expression that would have been out of place on her normally peaceful face, but her face was now contorted into something Julia had never seen there.

Anger radiated from her and there was vengeance in her eyes, and for the first time, Hans actually looked scared.

“That bastard,” Elsa growled, “is my brother.” 

Faster than Julia could blink, Hans was frozen in place, a blue ice sculpture encapsulating him while his wide eyes darted from here to there. 

“You’re lucky,” Elsa said, stepping closer and glaring at the now frozen in place fallen prince, “that I’m not a killer like you. Though I do feel like I owe you...” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you remember? You left my sister for dead. You would have killed me if it weren’t for her. Look at us now, Hans. I could end you so easily, murder you right here, and no one would blame me. I _want_ to kill you,” she added, “but you don’t deserve to get off quite that easily, and I’m not a murderer.”

Jesus, Elsa was _terrifying._ Julia had never seen it before.

For a moment, no one moved. Julia held tightly to Kristoff as he worked to catch his breath, Felix laying in shock at their feet, and Elias unmoving next to the opened door. 

Then, she felt something wet on her hand. She pulled it from where she’d been holding tightly to the man who was the closest thing she had to a father, shocked to find it covered in fresh, wet blood.

“Oh, my God!” Her voice came out in a shocked cry. “You’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine.” Kristoff winced as she circled around to his front, her eyes finding the source of the blood. There was a shallow cut against his side where Hans had just gotten him with the tip of the knife. Julia could hear the sound of running footsteps through the open door. “It’s not deep.”

“Kristoff!” Anna’s voice now joined theirs, her face shocked as she looked on the sight before her. She rushed to her husband’s side, surveying the damage, before turning her fury on Hans. “You miserable piece of—”

“Anna, stop.” Elsa's voice was as commanding as Julia had ever heard. “You’ll have nightmares for years. Get Kristoff upstairs, clean him up. Felix, help Anna. Elias, get Julia out of here, and send me some guards. I’ll keep him on ice until they arrive.” Then her lips curled into a smile unlike any Julia had ever seen her wear. “And take your time. I won’t let him die, but I certainly don’t want him to be too comfortable. He doesn’t deserve that, either.”

Elias followed his aunt’s directions to a point. A dozen guards were mustered before he whisked her away upstairs. Julia felt like her legs were made of jelly, but she forced herself to stay upright, supported by his strong arm around her waist. 

He barely spoke to her as they made their way upstairs, two or three times asking if she was alright, before leading her to his own room, which made no sense. He must have been in shock, she realized.

When the door was closed behind them, she turned to face him. She wasn’t sure what she planned to say. She’d told him she loved him, after all. What if he didn’t return the sentiment? What if he was about to let her down?

And then, to her shock, his face crumpled, making him look ten years younger, and he broke down. In her surprise, she reached for him, and he cried deep, painful sounding sobs into her neck and shoulder. His strong arms were tight around her waist, clutching tightly to her dress with one hand and her shoulder with the other. Once or twice she thought she heard him try to speak, but his sobs instead doubled. She reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through his blonde locks. His back heaved under her other hand, and for a while, nothing was said.

After a while, when she shifted just slightly to change the bearing of his weight, Julia remembered that there was blood spattered on her dress. She could feel the fabric stiffening as it began to dry. It had to be all over Elias, as well.

God, she could have died, she mused, if it hadn’t been for Kristoff. She would have to thank him in the morning, once they had all calmed down. 

For now, she worried about his hysterical son who held her crushed to his chest in his strong arms. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered softly in his ear. “I’m right here. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

“Ju-” His voice cut off again with the sobs. “You… he…”

“I’m fine, Elias,” she insisted, pulling him back by a strong hand in his long blonde hair. “Look at me,” she said. Demanded. 

But he couldn’t.

The Crown Prince of Arendale dropped to his knees at her feet, his strength finally giving out. He was so tall that his head rested against her breast as she continued to try to calm him, but nothing worked. She had never witnessed him lose control like this, and it almost scared her.

“Look.” Her voice sounded again, firm, as she stepped away from him. He stopped his sobbing as she suddenly began ripping the mad layers and layers of her now bloody dress from her body. “Elias, look at me.”

Finally, Elias found his voice.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Julia had her dress off and was kicking aside the petticoats when he spoke, and she paused briefly to cock a regal eyebrow at him. “I’m showing you,” she said, rolling her eyes as she gestured to the now exposed corset, now covered only by that, a long pair of stockings, and a mercifully thick winter shift that went past her knees. He could see clearly the unbroken fabric, the corset that, while bloody, showed no sign of puncture.

“Look at me,” she said again, and her voice was strong. Stubborn. “You have to stop crying, Elias. I’m afraid you’re going to make yourself sick. Really, I’m fine! It’s all done, honey, it's over. Look at me, Elias. I’m right here.”

His shoulders sagged as he traced his fingers over her arm. His hands were warm, softer than she had expected with the amount of time he spent outdoors, and she shivered as they traced her shoulders and bare collarbones. He sank to the floor, pulling her with him, and she found herself more or less in his lap, her face just inches from his.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded exhausted. “I can’t believe you shot him.”

“I can’t believe how convincingly you lied.”

“I had to.” He gazed up at her through puffy eyelids. “Who knows what he would have done with you?” He sniffed, the sound wet and heavy. “Did you mean it?”

She didn’t need clarification. She couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded.

Finally, _finally_ , he pulled her down to close the few inches between them to press his lips to hers.

And just like that, everything changed. The world tilted back on its axis, and suddenly, he was hers and she was his. Despite the madness of the evening, this felt right. This felt comfortable.

They stayed that way for a while until he began to soften slightly, shoulders sagging and suddenly seeming so tired. 

She helped him to his feet, guiding him to the dressing room he shared with Axel, mindful to keep quiet so as not to wake him. She drew a bath, and when he stood staring at the water, still in apparent shock, turned her head to the side and began undressing him. She could almost hear the blood rush to his face as he batted her hands away, undressing the rest of the way while she excused herself to sort out nightclothes.

After he cleaned himself and wrapped himself in a robe, he emerged slowly, still in a state of shock. She carefully dressed him as if it were some daily occurrence, forcing her eyes away from any areas that might cause either of them embarrassment. She managed to push down the top of the robe, doing her best not to stare at his bare chest, and pulled a nightshirt over him completely before he came to just enough to reach under and untie the robe, and it landed in a heap at his feet.

Much later, after she had quickly bathed in the tepid water with no complaint, they curled together on top of the blankets. Julia wore a sleep shirt of his that was much too big while she stroked her fingers softly through his damp mop of blonde hair. His head was resting against her shoulder, and he suddenly seemed so much smaller, so much younger.

Finally, Elias mumbled, “I thought this was supposed to be the other way around.”

Julia laughed as she held him to her chest. “What makes you think that?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I guess I just never thought you’d have to come to my rescue. And then, I turn into a huge, sobbing mess.”

“You may have your father’s mannerisms,” Julia said, grinning from ear to ear, “but you ugly cry like your mom.”

He finally managed a small laugh before shuddering. “I’m fucking freezing.” He shifted, crawling under the coverlet. “Come on, get under. It’s cold.”

“It’s not proper.” Her smile was smaller, but it maintained all of its grandiose feeling. It was coy, and it felt good.

“We’re past proper.”

“If you say so. But they’ll find us in the morning.”

“Do you care?”

“The teasing we’ll get from your sister…” She trailed off, giggling. 

Elias stared at her for a long time, fingertips tracing over her face, before he said, voice suddenly full of wonder, “Who are you?”

The smile turned warm. “I’m the Westergaard Princess.” She giggled. “The lost one, you know. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

“Your Highness,” he murmured, finally letting his lips press against her cheek, and she sighed softly. “Will you implore me…”

“Yes, sir?” Her voice was full of teasing.

“Get the hell under the blankets.”

“Of course, sir.”

Then he kissed her again, making her toes curl, before pulling the coverlet over them both.

As they were starting to drift off, he finally whispered the words against her soft hair, the ones she had desperately hoped to hear for so long.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

  
  


Christmas morning found Elias waking to dim twilight and an unfamiliar warmth against his chest. Julia was still curled against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder and one hand resting, almost protectively, against his heart. He felt his stomach swoop as he recalled the events of the night before.

But before he could really process much of anything, the door swung open and Kristin was shouting, “Merry Christmas, brother dear—oh, my God!”

The last words came out in a squeal and the door slammed closed again. Julia had awoken and was giggling.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” Kristin’s mortification was clear in her tone.

A door opened, then he heard, “Sorry for what?” Axel’s voice was curious. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Go downstairs! And take the others with you!”

“But—”

“Go downstairs, or I’ll throw you down, myself!” 

Elias had to bury his face in the pillow when Julia whispered, her voice as conspiratorial as it had ever been, “See? She could wake the dead with that shriek.”

Kristin’s voice was now a snarl as she continued chasing Axel toward the stairs, and Elias could hear the trepidation in his brother’s voice as he said, “Fine! Geeze, calm down! Come on, Anita.”

There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and Elias grimaced down at Julia. “Told you we’d get caught.”

“At least it was Kristin and not one of the twins.” Julia sat up, yawning and stretching. “It’s not like we did anything so terrible, anyway.” She grinned.

“I don’t know about that,” he murmured, pushing himself up next to her. He ran his hand over her hair, disheveled from sleep, then her puffy cheek. “They’ll say I compromised your virtue or something.”

The truth was, he wanted to. Not to ruin her, but to experience everything with her he possibly could. He wanted to wake up like this every morning. He wanted… 

Christ.

“And I’ll tell them that is not what happened, and that you were a perfect gentleman.” She kissed his chin, a gesture that felt familiar despite being the first time she’d done it.

“A perfect gentleman wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as his parents’ unmarried ward.”

“Oh, the scandal!”

He needed to kiss her, he reasoned. She certainly wasn’t objecting, and her lips were so beautiful and inviting…

“I can hear you,” Kristin hissed through the closed door. “If you hurry up and get out here, nobody will be any the wiser. Otherwise, you’ll get your God damned scandal!”

“I should go.” Elias couldn’t remember ever seeing Julia smile so widely. “She’s right.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. She’d said it first, last night. It felt right to be the first one to say it this morning. “I love you.”

Her eyes warmed and softened as she rested a hand against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

His arms wrapped around her waist, though, pulling her closer, and she didn’t fight. He kissed her one more time, needing the validation that this was real and not some crazy dream he’d had.

She _loved_ him. It was finally over, the struggle and conflict he’d felt, any lingering hurt from his overreaction to something he needed to get over now gone. One slip, one misstep, one wrong word, and he could have lost her.

He had been so wrong, had wasted so much time. But now, it was over, and he finally, _finally_ had her.

Finally.

He was almost embarrassed at the wreck he’d been the night before, but he tried not to think about it. Instead, he lost himself in her warm lips, the soft curve of her waist. It was easy when she kissed him _again,_ and she was real and here and safe and warm and smelling like the rosemary and lavender he knew was mixed into her soaps… 

How did he know _that?_

“Julia, come _on!”_

Giggling, Julia disentangled herself from the mess of blankets and scurried out the door, still dressed in his nightshirt and being hissed at by a thoroughly worked up Kristin, before he had much of a chance to do anything other than get to his feet.

Their bloodied clothes were still on the floor from the night before, and Elias quickly shoved them into the back of his wardrobe before pulling on a robe and donning slippers, leaving through the ajar door.

He could hear Julia and Kristin whispering and giggling as he passed, just like they always did, but for different reasons this morning, and he blushed, hurrying past on his way downstairs.

As they were every Christmas, those who were awake were gathered in the library. He was surprised to see his parents already awake, and he cringed at the sight of his father, bandages clearly visible under his robe where he sat, feet propped up and resting against a mountain of pillows, a scowl on his face.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“I feel perfectly fine,” Kristoff replied, rolling his eyes at his wife, who glared down from the other end of the couch. “I’ve hurt myself worse on the ice, but your mother insists that I rest.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Anna said, her voice clearly challenging, and Elias exchanged a conspiratorial look with his father.

It wasn’t long before Kristin and Julia appeared. Julia had changed into her own nightclothes, an old nightgown he recognized that must have stayed here after she’d left, and looking for all the world like she had slept in them. He felt his cheeks flush at the thought that she’d actually slept in his. 

Elias was just thinking of how fortunate it was Kristin was the only one who knew where Julia had slept last night when his mother casually said, “Julia, I went to check on you last night, but you weren’t there. Did you make it to bed alright?”

Elias felt the tips of his ears burn, but Julia managed to sound quite casual. “Oh, yes, thank you. I slept in Kristin’s room.”

“Hmm.” Anna raised an eyebrow and Kristoff chuckled softly. “Interesting. I didn’t see you in there when I woke Kristin up.”

“She came in later.” Kristin’s voice was a little high pitched, her words rushed.

“So I didn’t hear you next door?” The three teenagers grew very quiet, and his father’s chuckling increased. 

“Well,” Julia said, and she was stuttering now, finally blushing, “I had to make sure he was okay. He was in shock, you see.”

“I’m sure he was. How very considerate of you.” Anna shook her head and smiled. “I can’t really criticize,” she said, her voice and eyes now turning back to Elias. God, was his face on fire? It felt like it. “Your father and I got up to all _kinds_ of mischief before we were married. I just hope you were careful.”

“Nothing happened,” Elias blurted. “we just went to sleep!”

Julia slapped his shoulder before burying her face in it. Kristoff snorted and Kristin hid her face in a pillow to hide her laughter, garnering the attention of the youngest ones, who had been investigating the presents under the tree and paying them no mind.

Oskar tilted his head. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, darling,” Anna said, her tone breezy. “What’s under there for me?”

Felix eventually appeared, raising his eyebrows at his giggling cousin, who waved him off and informed him there were gifts for him under the tree. He found them before handing around his own, one for everyone, except Kristin, who received several.

They had just finished, wrapping paper everywhere, Nikko’s little brown eyes following the chaos of his siblings, when Kai appeared. It was Christmas, so his somber expression felt wildly out of place.

“Your Majesty,” he said, and his voice was as solemn as his visage, “His Majesty, the King of the Southern Isles requests an audience.”

Elias felt as confused as his mother looked. “Ivor? Send him in.”

But Kai was shaking his head. “No, ma’am. It is His Majesty, King Leopold.”

Silence instantly fell over the family. Felix had frozen, hands still wrapped around the book he had received from Julia. “What?”

Kai stepped aside, revealing a Leopold who looked to have aged ten years in the few months since Elias had seen him. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you would not prefer for your younger children to hear my news, Your Majesty.” He glanced at Oskar and the twins, sitting next to little Sara, confusion on their faces.

“Kai?” Elias watched as his mother rose for a moment to guide the youngest four toward the overseer. “Take the children to breakfast, won’t you? We’ll be along.”

“But he was fine. He had a headache when we left, but he seemed fine.” Felix was shaking his head as he crossed the room to his brother, the door closing behind Kai and the children.

“It got worse almost immediately. Poisoned.” Leopold’s hands were shaking, and Elias leapt to his feet, pushing the other man into a chair, where he collapsed. “He was gone by the evening. One of the guards cracked when Uncle Simon started questioning them, and I came straight here. Hans is—”

“Locked up in the dungeon,” Julia interrupted, her face pale and drawn as she moved to stand at her cousin’s side. “He tried to kidnap me.”

“He _was_ locked in the dungeon. And trying to kidnap you was the least of what he did.” Leopold’s face became hard. “I’ve been here several hours already. I’m sorry,” he said, giving Anna a grimace, “but it was early and I didn’t think you’d mind. I questioned him when I arrived.”

“And?”

“He admitted to bribing the guard to put a large dose of arsenic in my father’s drink. Why the guard waited so long, I have no idea. Hans didn’t say.”

It was quiet again before Anna eventually spoke. “What will you do now?”

“Uncle Simon is taking him home.” Leopold took a deep, shaky breath. “As a man guilty of both regicide and fratricide, I feel he’s left me no choice. I’ve made my sentence.”

“You mean…” Felix seemed to have momentarily lost the ability to speak. Actually, now that he thought of it, Elias thought me might actually be sick.

“Yes.”

Felix clenched a fist over his lips.

Elias glanced around, eyes falling on a decorative urn that he knew his parents hated. Leaping up, he grabbed it and just managed to get it in front of Felix an instant before the older man vomited. Carefully, he guided Felix and the urn back to the couch, where Julia had extended one arm, long fingers reaching for her cousin, who collapsed next to her. Elias watched as Julia gently rubbed Felix’s back, murmuring something he couldn’t hear. His retching had ceased, but Felix’s shoulders still heaved for a few moments before he calmed. He lifted his head, grimacing.

“Sorry.” Felix nodded toward the urn as he rose again, seeming to sway slightly before resolutely heading for the door, opening it, and setting the urn outside.

“It’s fine.” Anna waved a dismissive hand. “Elias and the twins have a talent for aiding in the disposal of decor we don’t particularly like, so you’re fitting right in. Here, sit back down.” She rose to push Felix back to the couch before she moved to sit on the arm of the chair next to Leopold, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry, Leopold. You know we're here for you, whatever you need. And I don't just mean Arendelle,” she added resolutely, “I mean this family.”

“Leo.” The new King of the Southern Isles sighed heavily. “I think we can be less formal now, if you’re amenable, Your Majesty.”

“Of course.” Anna patted his back gently, and Elias saw Kristin rise to move to sit by Felix. “And if I’m expected to call you Leo, you have to call me Anna.”

It was quiet again for a long time before Leopold finally spoke. “That little bassinet over there—is that the new prince?”

“It is.” Anna rose, moving to take the sleeping Nikko from the bassinet. “Would you like to hold him? I swear, babies make everything better.”

Leopold smiled as he made a cradle in his arms, clearly used to tiny children from having so many siblings and cousins. It made Elias smile, just a little. “He looks like you.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Anna grinned, reaching forward to shove Leopold’s head down closer to Nikko. Leo’s eyes widened, and Elias chuckled. His mother had done this to him a time or two when he’d been stressed in recent months. “Smell that, Leo. Doesn’t he smell wonderful?”

Leopold chuckled. “I always forget how good they smell.” He seemed to be relaxing quickly as he ran a finger down Nikko’s tiny ones.

A year ago, this scene would have made him sick. A Westergaard holding his baby brother, sitting in their library on Christmas morning, would have caused him to erupt, but now, it was just a grieving young man trying to heal. Odd, how quickly that had changed.

“You should get married and have babies,” Julia said, finally speaking. “Uncle Ivor would have wanted that.”

“Father waited for the right woman, and so shall I. I’m sure there will be heirs running around in no time,” he continued, smiling slightly, “even if they’re not my own children. _That’s_ what he would have wanted.”

Then the crying finally began, and Elias realized as they all wept for Ivor and the end that had finally arrived, that the Westergaards were nothing like what he’d imagined them to be. As Julia squeezed into the chair next to Leopold, Felix moving to lean down from behind to hug them both, he realized they were just a family like any other.

Like his.

Theirs.

* * *

The baby was asleep, the children were all tucked away in their rooms, Julia was in love with Elias, Elias was in love with Julia. There was no jumping from cliffs, no crumbling of dams, no magical snowmen and no mythical spirits, but it was finally done, and Kristoff felt such joy.

The joy was sharply juxtaposed over the loss of an old friend. Ivor deserved better than what he had received, but perhaps he would be happy to know they were still in safe hands, between the Bjorgmans and the few remaining trustworthy uncles.

Leo, Felix, and Julia had disappeared after lunch, reappearing an hour later with plans to return to the Southern Isles for the funeral.

“We’ll be going with you, of course,” Elias had said suddenly, and Anna had rolled her eyes.

“Elias, your father is injured and I have a baby attached.”

“We’re going, Mama.” Elias had narrowed his eyes and drawn himself up, hoisting his chin. His voice had booked no refusal, so Anna had sighed, telling Kai there were arrangements to be made.

“I’m _never,”_ Anna said now, climbing into bed, _“ever,_ lying to my children again.”

After the drama of the past few months, Kristoff was inclined to agree. He would have said so, but Anna continued on in a torrent of emotion.

“What if we would have died? I mean, I’m not saying it’s like it was probable, with everything we’ve lived through, but what if we _died?_ What then? He would have thought we were lying and nothing would have ever worked out like—”

“Anna.” She was working toward hysteria, and not the kind he found cute, but the kind that concerned him. “Elias would have known.”

“But if we _died—”_

Sighing, Kristoff finally decided to reveal his one and only secret, the one he’d kept from Anna without malice or much thought, other than as a simple insurance policy he was sure he’d never use. He’d been right, but still, it would help her to know.

“I wrote him a letter.”

Anna blinked, clearly confused. “What?”

“Five years ago,” he explained, drawing her toward the edge of the bed and sitting down beside her, “I wrote Elias a letter. It explained everything. I told him how much we loved him and how we never would have done this if it hadn’t been to keep her safe and happy, and how I was sure he’d never read it, but that I had to put it down, just the same. I told him everything about Julia. Her parents, her situation, the abuse, all of it. I wrote it all down, sealed it in an envelope, and that was that.”

“That was that?” Anna’s eyes narrowed. “And where did you put this letter? How could you be sure anyone would ever find it?”

“First,” Kristoff explained, swinging up a foot to remove a boot, suddenly desperate to be freed of confines of any sort, “I wrote a copy. Word for word, line for line. I sealed them,” the boot flew across the room in a cathartic manner, “and gave them away.” He sighed, feeling a small twinge from the cut on his side. He certainly hadn't needed all the bandages wrapped around him for such a shallow cut, but he wore them for Anna’s benefit. It was really only uncomfortable when he leaned against it. 

“You gave them away?” Anna drew up on her knees, tugging up at her own dress before reaching back for the buttons. “What, to random strangers?”

“Absolutely not.” Kristoff rolled his eyes. “Who do you think I gave them to?” The other boot came free and it was now a race to the finish as he rose back onto his feet.

“I don’t know, Elsa? Mattias?”

“Nope.”

“Kristin?” Anna’s face was not contemplative. Her fingers slowed on the buttons, and he stopped his own progress once he was down to his drawers to help her.

“No. She’d snoop.” 

“Definitely not Elias.”

“Definitely not.” The buttons were slipping away quickly and he found the short, loose corset she wore beneath her dress.

Anna huffed, glancing over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were calculating and warm at the same time, and his stomach did a little flip, his fingers slipping on the laces as he worked them through his fingers. “Can I get a hint?”

Focusing on the task at hand, Kristoff considered this before saying slowly, “Who would have the most to gain by outlasting the other?”

Anna frowned in consideration while he finished freeing her of the worst of the confines of her dress. He guided her up to her feet, helping her out of her things until she was clad only in a thin cotton shift that clung to her form. “The most to gain…”

“It’ll come to you.” He smirked, reaching for her hand and guiding her back to the bed.

“Oh, my God.” Anna slapped his chest as he pulled her against his uninjured side, and he laughed. “You gave them to the twins!”

“I’ve checked, and neither seal is broken, and they have _no_ idea what’s in there. Come to think of it,” he mused, “maybe I should ask for them back.”

“Don’t.” Anna smiled, her eyes suddenly soft again, warm like the waters of that beautiful, blue beach they’d visited once. The memory overtook him suddenly, and he blinked, realizing he’d missed something she said.

“Where did you go?” She was smiling as she leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose.

“I was on the beach.”

The smile turned to a smirk. “You look drunk.”

“I was.” Her thighs were tight against his waist, and he could feel the warmth that came from every pore. Anna was giggling when his fingers found her ribs. “We both were.”

“Why else would we do that?” Anna’s laughter was almost as giddy as it had been that warm evening. “It’s a miracle we weren’t caught.”

“I told you we would be fine.”

“And we were,” Anna remembered, her eyes sparkling. “Just like you said.”

“We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Anna hummed, shifting so her cheek was against her hands. “I’d like to go somewhere even warmer, if that’s possible.”

“Oh, stop.” He kissed her forehead softly, watching her lips curl into a grin as he said, “You do winter just fine, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, and he noted with pride the small blush in her cheeks. “All covered in layers and hats and mittens and almost no fashionable dresses.”

“All the more of a gift to unwrap.” She pulled in a slightly harsher breath when he found her ear with his lips.

“Kristoff.” Her voice was soft, an unconvincing murmur as she rested. She seemed to sense that he wouldn’t stop easily, changing the subject quickly. “Kai says we have two weeks until the funeral. We leave in a week. On New Year’s Day.” She grimaced. “What a way to start a new year.”

“I know.” Resigned to further conversation before he could get his own plans back on track, he started to prop himself up on a pile of pillows, but she batted his hand away, reaching back to help him. “But maybe it will be a good thing.”

“A good thing that the King of the Southern Isles was murdered by his brother?”

“That the brother in question is finally being dealt with.” Anna shuddered. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No,” Anna murmured, shaking her head. “I was just remembering…”

He held out an arm and offered a sympathetic smile. She burrowed against his uninjured side, sighing softly. “I saw his face, when he was aiming for Elsa. I never pushed Ivor to pass a different sentence on Hans, but I could always remember…” 

She shuddered against his side and he wrapped her as tightly as he could manage. “I'm going to have nightmares,” she fretted. 

“I know.” There was nothing he could do about that. Anna's traumas would always haunt her, no matter how happy they were. Her nightmares were less frequent over the years, but they still woke her from time to time. “I'll be right there when you wake up, just like always.” That, he could do something about. 

“I'm so lucky,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. “Anytime things go sideways, it's always okay.”

That was true, as well. “We are lucky. We have a beautiful life filled with beautiful people. Not everybody gets that.”

He was about to start putting the moves on again when his ears picked up the sound of a door opening and closing down the hall, accompanied by the sound of a fussing Nikko.

“I've got it.” Anna rose from the bed, making the door before the nurse had a chance to knock. 

“I'm sorry, Majesty,” came the apologetic voice.

“It's perfectly alright.” Anna reached out, taking the upset little bundle into her arms. “We'll keep him in here tonight.”

Kristoff smiled. The little bassinet that had once spent a decade near their bed had returned with Nikko’s arrival, and he slept there more often than not. He watched his wife gently close the door before making her way back to bed. 

“Oh, poor baby,” she murmured, already moving her shift from her shoulder. “Did you not have enough earlier?”

She barely made it to the bed before Nikko latched on, tiny fists bumping against Anna's chest as he settled against his side.

They were quiet for a while, lost in the sound of Nikko’s grunts and soft sighs. Kristoff loved this almost more than anything. They had created this tiny little person who would one day grow up to go off on adventures of his own. For now, though, he was completely reliant on his mother for the sustenance that would allow him to flourish.

Anna ran a hand down Nikko’s cheek as he began to slow. “So lucky,” she whispered again. “I'm so lucky to have this.” Craning her head back, she smiled brightly up at him. “Thank you for babies.”

Chucking, he leaned down to kiss her soft lips, lingering for a moment. “Thank _you_ for babies,” he murmured. Honestly, his part in the creation process was pretty easy.

“Nikko,” she reminded him softly when he kissed her again, a little more heated this time. She smiled when he leaned back, gently resting the dozing baby against her shoulder. Her delicate hand rose to pat him firmly on the back, encouraging him to burp up anything that was too much for his little body. There was never much with him, and he was quick, already asleep before Anna rose from the bed.

Kristoff watched as Anna quietly made her way back to the bed. She paused before climbing in, cocking her head off to one side. “I know what you’re up to,” she whispered, grinning. “You’re supposed to take it easy.”

“I will.”

“Promise?” Her blue eyes were sparkling in the dim light from the fire.

Grinning, he patted his lap. She shook her head, but the shift slipped from her shoulders. Crawling, she made her way back up onto the bed and on top of him. Still resting on his pile of pillows, Kristoff let himself recline slightly, desperate for more but knowing he needed to let her take control. He could reach out, though, and he found her breast, thumb just barely brushing her nipples, knowing any more would be too much. She allowed herself to be guided, her hands resting on either side of his head against the bed as he brought her down close enough to kiss.

A sigh, only barely enough to be heard, slipped her lips as he found her neck, stringing a line of kisses from her clavicle to her ear. Once he was there, he let a hand splay across her lower back.

“ _I’m_ lucky,” he whispered. Kristoff felt butterflies in his stomach when she smiled at him. It still felt like the first time with her when they were like this, when it was quiet and almost a little shy. “Merry Christmas, Anna.”

Her fingers were warm against his face as she pulled back, settling against his lap. He studied her as she ran her fingers over his cheeks, his nose, traced along the outline of his beard. Her hips were wider than they’d been the first time, her breasts still swollen from motherhood. A few strands of gray had stubbornly worked their way in over the last year or so, and there were a few worry lines in her forehead that would remain for the rest of their lives, and her aqua eyes were vibrant. She was so beautiful, he didn’t even want to blink.

“Merry Christmas, Kristoff,” she whispered back, grinning as she shifted against him. He gave a sharp inhale, feeling her heat, reaching down to grasp her thighs. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I promise to tell you if it hurts.”

He’d promised to stay as still as he could, but his hands were fine and they could reach to trace the lines of her body, her curves, the lines she still bore from Nikko and the older ones from his siblings. Her head rolled back as she reached down, grasping him with soft fingers so that she could guide him inside. Both gasped quietly, knowing the need to keep their voices down was vital to the completion of their lovemaking, and he watched as she bit down on her bottom lip, her hips rolling once.

She felt like… What did she feel like? Heaven. A warm bath on a cold day. Home.

She felt like home, familiar and warm and welcoming.

Anna giggled, and he realized he’d said the words aloud. He pushed himself up a bit, and she immediately froze, frowning. “Kristoff, you’re—”

“Fine.” Shifting, he moved back up the bed so he was more or less leaning against a combination of pillows and headboard. It wasn’t a lie. The cut wasn’t as deep as even he had initially thought, and the doctor had been unconcerned. When Anna had fretted, the old man had conceded that it certainly couldn’t _hurt_ anything for Kristoff to take it easy, but he could still walk, still lift his son.

Anna leaned to one side, clearly checking for blood, and he rolled his eyes. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

This was better. Sitting up, he could play with the tendrils of hair that fell down her back. She had let her hair grow long when she’d been pregnant, knowing it would start to fall out and liking it to be a little less obvious. Kristoff liked that it brushed all the way down her back, tickling his thighs when she leaned back, her breasts jutting outward as she supported herself just above the bend of his knee. Her fingers were digging into his thighs as she rocked, and he was able to lean forward just enough to pepper kisses down her throat.

_“Oh,”_ she whispered softly, arching against him, then stopping when he hissed as one of her hands left his leg, brushing against his side on its way to his face. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, her voice and face clearly upset.

“It’s fine.” The pain was already receding, and close inspection showed it wasn’t bleeding. He leaned back, just in case. “I’ll be good. Sorry.”

“You should be.” Her eyes narrowed over the nose that wrinkled as a smile tried to emerge below that. Their voices were the whispers of people who had done this a hundred times or more. Waking Nikko would be an end to the evening’s enjoyments, and one had to be careful to whisper with little more than the brush of air against an ear.

“Forgive me?” He could still reach her clit easily, and he found it with his thumb, circling slowly. He watched as her mouth fell open and she sighed again.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Kristoff, _yes.”_

So lucky, he thought again, that this magnificent woman was his wife, the wife to whom he was allowed to make love and babies and sleep beside.

Sooner than he’d have thought, they were cresting together. She bit on her lips to keep from crying out, and Kristoff felt the reddening of his face from the effort to hold in the sounds he wanted to release. She curled down over him, her lips seeking his desperately, his hand spanning her lower back as she moaned softly into him. Her hips were still shuddering softly as he rested his free hand there, trying to help steady her.

When she finally broke away, she rolled carefully off to his uninjured side, curling up next to him as he pulled up the covers more fully over their nude bodies.

“We really shouldn’t sleep like this,” she murmured. “The kids could come barging in.”

“They know better.” Or, so he hoped. Anna blinked lazily, her expression thoughtful. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think he’s going to marry her.” She sounded almost dreamy.

“He will.” Wrapping her in one arm, he pulled her close, just as he had earlier. “Sooner, I think, rather than later.”

“I hope so. I want more babies around, and I think I’m done.”

“You said that about Sara.”

“It feels different this time,” she mused. “I can’t explain it, and maybe I’m wrong, but I really think he’s the last one. He was a surprise, anyway,” she laughed softly.

“But a wonderful surprise, right?”

“The best.” Anna grinned, turning to press her lips to his shoulder. “I love you,” she whispered against the freckled skin she found there. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

They fell asleep to the soft sound of each other’s breathing, mixed with Nikko’s, and Anna didn’t have a nightmare.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is finally upon us! There will be side shots upcoming, so stay tuned for those. Thank you!

_Ten Years Later_

“I don’t like this. He’s entirely too old for her, and way too boring. She won’t have another day of excitement in her life.”

“Be nice. He’s our closest neighbor, and your daughter-in-law’s cousin. And she’ll have excitement. She’ll be the _cause_ of excitement.”

“But he’s too _old_.”

“Stop whining. You sound like your son.”

Kristoff closed his mouth, but the scowl remained. From the bed, Anna regarded him with one raised eyebrow over the top of her book as he made another attempt at sympathy. “You can’t even argue it. He’s over ten years her senior, and the last time he saw her—”

“Was years ago, at Kristin and Felix’s wedding.” Anna scoffed softly. “She’s grown up a little since then.”

“She’s barely old enough to get married.”

“She’s almost twenty one!” Anna closed the book. There would be no reading tonight. “She’s no younger than I was when we married. She's older than Elias and Julia were. Was _I_ too young? Were they?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Kristoff sighed heavily, flopping onto the bed beside her. “I just mean…” He trailed off, staring at the ceiling.

Anna knew what he meant.

The ten years since the death of King Ivor had died had heralded change after change.

To everyone's shock, Elias had proposed to Julia before New Year’s, before even leaving for Ivor’s funeral, and Julia had tearfully accepted. It hadn’t taken much for them to realize the true depth of their feelings for each other and, having come so close to losing out on the opportunity entirely, to throw caution to the winds.

He had stayed by her side through the whole ordeal that had been burying Ivor, trying to decide what to do with Hans’s remains, and coming back to Arendelle to stay, his loyalty and dedication never wavering. It was just as Anna had always hoped, to see them side by side, hands tightly clasped when they thought no one was looking, stealing kisses in corners.

They were married in April in a grand ceremony accompanied by sheets of rain and thunder, but Anna had never seen either of them happier. They stayed in Arendelle, as Elias was still the Crown Prince, and Anna and Kristoff witnessed all the ups and downs that followed.

All cards finally on the table, they had proceeded to unload enough emotional baggage for people twice their ages. The fights in those early days were frequent and volatile, but like a lightning storm, they died down quickly, becoming hushed disagreements before, after a few months, dissipating further into the occasional look one would give the other. 

Their mutual love seemed enough to quell any argument, and more than once, Anna had gotten a taste of her own medicine when she’d gone to ask one or the other of them a question, scrambling back away from the door as the sounds of the newlyweds enjoying themselves echoed through the hall.

To no one’s surprise, Julia announced that she was pregnant late that summer, and a little boy with blonde hair and bright green eyes came just in time for spring.

Three years after the birth of their first grandchild, much longer than anyone would have imagined, the longest courtship the family had seen thus far came to an end. After four years of letters and visits and one or two trips where, to be honest, no one knew where they went, Prince Felix of the Southern Isles finally presented the Princess Royale of Arendelle with a ring and a promise to make her wildest dreams come true. 

As a result, the couple traveled on behalf of King Leopold to lands here and there.

Kristin shone as a diplomatic princess, making Felix brighter by proximity, and business was thriving under Leopold’s careful hand. They had only stopped for a year when their daughter was born. For something to do, the couple had spent a delightful six months in Arendelle, Kristin and Elias huddled in a corner while Felix and Julia conspired loudly against them, laughing all the while.

It had been the last time all seven of her children had been together for the ringing of the Jule bell.

Which led them to today, and the events of the past week.

“Sara has always known what she wanted.” Anna settled herself against the pillows. She had resolved herself to this a long time ago.

Sara was the most like a princess of any of her children, from the standpoint of understanding the value of her status. Still, romance wasn’t lost on her. She had promised never to marry someone she didn’t at least think she could love, and despite the age difference, Anna was alright with Leopold. Sara could do much worse, and it was clear that Leopold was taken with her.

It was also worth noting that Leopold had turned down many potential matches over the years for the same reason. Anyone who married Leo, even Sara, was marrying a king to become a queen. But those women had never loved him, or even harbored affection, and they had been more interested in political power than the power to change lives and make them better. 

“I don’t necessarily expect to love my wife when I marry,” he’d said once, years back, “but I do expect to love her, given time. It’s a trick to find a woman like that.”  
  


Anna continued when Kristoff said nothing. “Ever since she could understand what my job entailed, she’s wanted to be a queen. It’s not some heartless power grab,” Anna reminded him, “she just wants to fix everything. You know Sara. She always knows what’s what and what to do with what.” Kristoff laughed, and Anna found his hand with hers. “The best way to do that is to marry a king. She’d settle for a duke or a lord, but she’s so picky, she’s ruled them all out.”

“He’s over ten years older than her!” Kristoff’s indignancy returned full force.

“So you’ve reminded me,” Anna responded wryly, setting her book on the bedside table. “I can do math, you know. And much older men have married much younger women. It could be worse. You know no one will take better care of her than Leo.” She reached a hand up, stroking back Kristoff’s mop of graying blonde hair. “And no one will take better care of Leo than Sara. She actually makes him laugh. He’s different around her. I don’t remember him as a big joker or laugher—he’s always seemed very stoic, you know. But Felix has always insisted it’s in there, and Sara brings that out in him.”

She knew Kristoff couldn't argue this. They'd both seen it. The King of the Southern Isles had joined their family for the thirtieth anniversary of the queen and her consort three weeks ago. Julia had extended the invitation personally. 

  
  


_Leopold arrived in Arendelle with a cloud over his head, the weight of the crown heavy as ever, and it remained until they all sat down to dinner the first night._

_He had not, at first, recognized Princess Sara of Arendelle, but upon reintroduction, she had laughed merrily at the look of shock on his face and proclaimed, “It’s been awhile since you were here. I'm sure you'll find that, while some things never change, some things have to. For heaven’s sake, Leo, have you seen how tall Nikko’s getting?”_

_The pair had spun around the dance floor, laughing merrily and seeming to hit it off immediately. One particular dance, a favorite of Sara’s, involved the ladies being lifted from the floor by their partners, and when Leopold flew Sara through the air, she beamed with enjoyment. She landed, laughing as she slapped him lightly on the shoulder, saying something Anna couldn’t hear. Leopold just grinned at her as if he’d made some fantastic joke, and Anna couldn't help but stare._

_She wasn’t the only one. Felix leaned over, whispering, “I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages. I can’t_ remember _the last time I saw him smile like that. He’s not miserable, he’s just not very…”_

_“Jovial.” Kristin was sitting on Felix’s other side, leaning her head back against the wall behind her, eyes closed. “Carefree. Lighthearted. Cheerful.”_

_“Thank you, darling.” Felix grinned, squeezing her hand softly._

_Anna watched as her daughter danced three more dances with Leopold, slightly relieved that she seemed to know without being told that she was monopolizing the attention of a king of a foreign country._

_But she hadn’t danced again that night, and neither had he._

  
  


“I just wish she wouldn’t flirt with him the way she does.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Anna shoved her husband onto his side of the bed. “They’re getting married, does it matter?”

“And I wish I was allowed to have more of an opinion about this.” He crossed his arms, sulking.

At this, Anna sat up to stare down at his frowning visage. “You _are_ allowed to have an opinion, honey.” When he didn’t respond, she dropped a small kiss onto his forehead, and she felt the lines of his frown melt slightly under the touch. “If you really think it’s a bad idea, or if you want her to wait, or if you don’t want her to ever get married at all, all you have to do is say so. Just tell her. You know she’ll listen.”

When she sat back up, her hands now combing steadily through his hair, he was no longer frowning. Instead, he looked resigned. He heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s a perfect marriage, I know that. The politics don’t matter much to me, you know that, but even I have to admit it’s perfect. I know she’d be happy with it, with him. But she’s my baby girl. I just want her to be the happiest she possibly can.”

“Sara’s not a baby anymore, Kristoff,” Anna murmured. He winced softly, and she ran her fingers over his brow. “She hasn’t been for a while now. And this is far from the first offer. She’s refused several because she’s so damn picky.”

“‘I will pick the man,’” Kristoff said, raising his voice in pitch to match Sara’s, and making Anna giggle, “‘not the other way around. And I have _standards_.’” He tossed his head as if he were tossing back long blonde hair and snorted. “I know, I’ve heard that speech for the last two years.”

“What did she say when you talked to her this evening?” Anna gazed down, inquisitive. “You still haven’t told me. I know you don’t want to.”

“I don’t, because it’s the final nail in the coffin of the death of my being able to shelter her.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, so dramatic!” Anna teased. “You have to tell me now.”

Kristoff was silent for a few minutes, leaning into the gentle pressure of her fingertips against his scalp. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded resigned, almost a little defeated. “She said,” he began, “she’s been very impressed with him since he’s been here. She likes that he actually knows what he’s talking about, that he’s a good person who cares deeply for his family and his subjects, and he laughs at her jokes. She also said he made his intentions known a couple days ago, but that he didn’t want to rush her to make up her mind.” He sighed again, and Anna leaned down to kiss his forehead gently. “He didn’t want to ask your permission unless he knew he had hers. That surprised her. You know these weasels always come to you first, before they even say a word to Sara.”

Anna chuckled. “What those _boys_ didn’t understand was that hers was the only opinion that really mattered. Why they think I would force a marriage on my own child is beyond me. My children are well trained. They make perfectly fine matches for themselves. And Sara hates boys. She wants—she _needs—_ a man. ” Anna winked. “Takes after her mama.”

Kristoff chuckled at this. “That she does. So she sat on it for a few days, she said, mulled it over, before deciding she would probably never find a more ideal match. She’s not far from home, so she can visit when she wants, and she would be somewhere where she would be a force for good. He’s handsome,” Kristoff rolled his eyes, “affectionate, kind, respecting of her opinions on everything from food to politics. Everything on her list.”

Anna gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can still tell him no.”

“Tell him yes,” Kristoff finally said, “but that if he ever hurts my girl, he’s going to answer to me. I don’t care if he’s King of the Southern Isles.”

Anna giggled. “Anything else?”

“I hope they can learn to love each other.”

“I’m sure they will. Sara may be the practical one, but she’s always been giving with her love. Leo’s a good man, and you’ve seen how he’s come to love Julia like a sister, how protective he can be over Felix.”

Kristoff scoffed. “I don’t want him to love her platonically.”

“I doubt that will happen. You’ve seen how he looks at her.”

“I know.”

Anna thought now of that look, of the way Leopold’s face would light up when Sara came into a room, how he would look ten years younger rather than ten years older. 

They were quiet for a long time before either of them spoke again. Anna finally broke it, asking, “Do you think Axel or Anita will ever get married? Or Oskar?”

At this, Kristoff burst out laughing. “Axel _is_ married. To the Navy. And his bride is a very loving and appreciating one.” Kristoff was still chuckling at the idea of his wild son ever letting a bit between his teeth. “And thank God for that. I don’t think any woman other than his mother and sisters would have a glimmer of a chance to have any control over him.”

“That’s true. Poor thing would spend half her life crying over the absence of her husband.”

“As for the other two,” he mused, “I don’t know. I could see Oskar marrying some girl from up north. He spends most of his time there, anyway. And we’ve talked about Anita,” Kristoff reminded her. “I don’t think any prince or tradesman would ever be to her taste.”

“I wish she would just be honest about it,” Anna sighed.

“It’s not a topic we ever felt the need to bring up,” Kristoff reminded her. “We didn’t realize it until a few years ago.”

“But she has to know we’d be accepting. We’ve dropped hint after hint.”

“I think she does. I don’t think it’s the family she worries about, so much as society.”

“The hell with society,” Anna growled, feeling a strong protective wave wash through her. “Anita can love whomever she wants. I don’t care who he, or _she,”_ she emphasized, “is, they would be welcome here.”

Kristoff sighed, his brow furrowed. Anna knew this was probably almost as hard for Kristoff as it was for Anita. Anita had never had a hard time talking to her father—none of the children did—but she would clam up and change the subject whenever either of them mentioned marriage. Anna knew Kristoff had once told Anita that she didn’t have to marry anyone, if she didn’t want to, and that Anita had nodded and gotten unusually quiet.

“Would you feel better if we talked to her about it once everyone goes home?”

“Haven’t you already tried that? What if we’re wrong?”

“Not straight out. We’ll figure out what to say to her, but maybe she’ll finally talk. And if we’re wrong, then it'll be a great story to tell at Christmas. But I don’t think we are. If she’s really that worried, maybe she just needs to consider taking on a lady-in-waiting.”

“A lady…” Anna raised her eyebrows. “Crafty.”

“Nobody would dare say a word in any case, and you know it. They’re too scared of incurring her wrath. And in any case, they’ll all be fine. They’ll have their nieces and nephews to dote on them when they get old, if nothing else.” He kissed the top of Anna’s head as she shifted so she lay against his chest. “Mama Kristin will make sure they’re taken care of.”

“She is a wonderful mother.”

Kristoff gazed up at the ceiling. “I still can’t believe we have four grandchildren already.”

“I’m honestly surprised there aren’t more.”

“I’m suspicious,” Kristoff said slowly, “that we may be in for more come summer. Kristin’s been snippy with Felix lately.”

“You think?” Anna had wondered herself, but hadn’t given the thought voice yet. Kristin had seemed exhausted at the ball, not wanting to dance. Felix hadn't argued or pressed the issue, instead seeming quite content to sit at her side. 

“She barked at him for holding a door open for her earlier. Said she’s not a helpless creature.” He chuckled. “Sounded like a pregnant Kristin to me. She’s just like her mother, yelling at the men in her life.”

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself! You yelled at all four of the boys while you were pregnant. I’m surprised they didn’t come out traumatized.”

“They were being stubborn.” Anna huffed and rolled over, not really angry, but not wanting to admit when she was beaten.

“Whatever you say, baby.” His arms were warm as they wrapped around her from behind, tugging her tight, and she let herself mold against his solid form.

“Kristoff?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, dear?”

“I’m really glad I found you.”

He chuckled, holding her a little closer. “I’m really glad I found you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year has been rough. I started it optimistic, then I started this, then the whole world turned upside down. This story has been with me for the whole of the pandemic and all the other personal upheavals that this shit hole year has brought. It helped open me back up to the joy of writing at a time when I desperately needed something to control. While it's a little bittersweet to be done, I'm so grateful for everyone who had read and enjoyed this, or anything I've written, in this rebirth of mine. I write these stories to entertain myself, and put them out there in case anyone else should enjoy them. It's serendipitous that things just now seem to be looking up, just a bit, as this, my first "finished" work in a decade, finally comes to a close. As I finally find light at the end of the tunnel, I hope you do, too. 
> 
> I wish you the warmest of holidays, the best of health, and a prayer that you never take anything for granted. Love and be loved. Find joy in what you have, and celebrate it every day. If it's tough for you right now, take it from a woman who's been several rounds through the ringer and lived: you have never failed to reach tomorrow. There's nowhere to go but up. It will be okay, even if it's not right now.
> 
> Take care.


End file.
